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belovedguk · 14 days

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burnout (jk)

summary: jeon jungkook asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend in order to get back at his ex-girlfriend. however, you soon realize his true intentions.

pairing: bball player!jungkook x student journalist fem!reader

genres: yandere, dark romance, slow burn

author’s note: this is a repost or burnout chapters 1-3 + a bonus sneak peek from chapter 4 from my deleted account, aikastales, for easy viewing. it is still on hold. minors do not interact. no warnings for this specific part.

total word count: 10k

PART ONE

Why was Jeon Jungkook at the Communications building?

He had a red and white leather jacket on top of a white shirt, jeans, and his black combat boots. His long hair was a mess, which you guessed was due to his helmet, and when he saw you walking down the steps of the building, he perked up, smiled, and waved at you.

At first, you weren’t even sure if it was you he was waving at, so you were a bit stunned, and looked over your shoulder. But then, you heard your name called by him. You and Jungkook were not friends. Sure, you exchanged friendly nods at each other whenever your paths would cross, but that was the end of it. In fact, the only reason why you even exchanged those friendly nods was because of Taehyung—your cousin who also happened to be his best friend since preschool. If it wasn’t for him, you and Jungkook would just pass by each other without so much as a glance.

And so, it was only natural that you were confused and surprised when you saw him leaning against his motorcycle in front of your college’s building, apparently waiting for you.

“Y/N, hey,” Jungkook greeted with a smile on his handsome face once he was near you.

Still confused, you returned the smile, adjusting the strap of your backpack hanging over your shoulder. “Hi, Jungkook. Is everything okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, everything is—everything’s fine,” he said. Then, he cleared his throat. “Do you have time like right now? My treat.” He asked, his doe eyes piercing into yours.

You could not believe what you just heard. “What?” Was all you could reply.

Jungkook chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his gloved hand. “I know. It’s a shock, right? Believe me, I am too, but I just really need to talk to you about something. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t so important.”

“Is it about Taehyung? Is he okay? Did he get into trouble?” You asked, alert. It was the only logical answer why Jungkook waited for you and why he wanted to talk to you. Taehyung was the only person connecting the both of you.

Jungkook shook his head. “No, no, it’s not about Taehyung, but he’s fine. He’s in his class right now. Look,” he sighed deeply, licking his lower lip with the tip of his tongue before staring at you once more. “Yiseul, I just really need to talk to you. In private.”

You debated whether to go with him or not. This was Jeon Jungkook. Despite his tattoos, broad shoulders, piercings, and big bike—he was harmless. He was your cousin’s best friend, and even though you two weren’t friends, he looked like he needed one at the moment. Besides, you wouldn’t deny that a part of you wasn’t curious as to why he needed to talk to you. That and the fact that because you had been in love with him since you met him when you were thirteen, how could you say no to something that you had only imagined in your wildest dreams?

“Okay. Okay, let’s go,” you agreed, heart beating rapidly. “Where are we going?”

Jungkook’s smile widened when you agreed. “There’s a basement cafe twenty minutes from here. It’s called Seven.”

The both of you began making your way towards his motorcycle. “Just how private is this conversation going to be?” you asked supposedly only for yourself, but accidentally, you said it out loud.

“I guess you already have an idea on how private it needs to be considering the location,” he chuckled. “But don’t worry—I promise you’ll get home in one piece.”

Jungkook handed you his extra helmet, and you were thankful that you didn’t wear a dress that day. After placing your backpack in front of your chest, you wore the helmet. “Can you give me a hint on what it’s about?”

You couldn’t help it. You were curious.

“I remember you always being curious, Y/N. Glad you haven’t changed at all,” Jungkook said, mounting his motorcycle. “In twenty minutes, you’ll know. If you ride now, you’ll know in fifteen minutes.”

You thought he looked so attractive as he smiled and waited for you on his motorcycle. His smile was so infectious that you couldn’t help but to return it. “Alright, fine,” you say. Then, you mounted his motorcycle, placing your hands on his firm shoulders.

“Ready?” Jungkook asked, placing his key into the ignition, briefly glancing at you.

“Yeah, ready,” you replied. He started the engine and you held onto your backpack for dear life. You had seen Jungkook drive his motorcycle before and the only way you could describe it was fast.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Jungkook drove off.

As promised, fifteen minutes later, you arrived at Seven. It was indeed a basement cafe, secluded from the busy city streets and tucked in between fruit stands and ready-to-wear clothes inside an alley. You were the first to get off his motorcycle, taking your helmet off. Shaking your head, you took in your surroundings while Jungkook took his motorcycle garments off.

The alley was alive with mostly elderly people buying fruits and high schoolers buying the RTWs. The tangerines stood out due to their bright color against the setting sun. You wondered when and how Jungkook came to know the place, if he frequented it, why he chose this place over all other cafes.

“Y/N? Let’s go inside?” Jungkook asked, gesturing to you to enter the cafe first.

You nodded, entering Seven. As a basement cafe, the first thing you noticed were the windows placed near the ceiling. A permanent sepia hue covered the entire establishment due to its yellow orange lights. The walls were painted gray, tables and chairs white. There were only a few tables and chairs, and Jungkook led the way to the one at the very back.

He pulled the chair out of you which you thanked him for, and you sat down. Jungkook followed afterwards, placing the helmets on the table between the both of you.

“What do you want?” He asked, pulling his chair closer to the table.

“Honestly, I’m more curious on why you want to talk to me than have any drinks here,” you told him, placing your backpack on the floor beside your chair.

Jungkook chuckled, leaning his back against his chair. “Alright. Should I just say it?”

You nodded.

“I was hoping that you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend to make Haemin jealous,” Jungkook said so casually that you were completely and utterly stunned. Did you just hear him correctly? Upon seeing your reaction, he continued, “She broke up with me a month ago, and to be honest, I saw it coming already. We were getting into a lot of meaningless fights, always finding faults in one another, and just overall, being toxic to each other. So, when she broke up with me, I did not put up a fight, and just let her be,” Jungkook scoffed, shaking his head lightly. “Then, I learned that she was seeing Han Riyeo, that fucking bastard from Yongsan, behind my back for three months, and I want to get back at her.”

His explanation did not help you grasp what he just said previously. You were still stunned, but you managed to ask, “Why me?”

“For reasons I still don’t know, Haemin was always jealous of you,” he confessed.

Now, that was a surprise. “What? You and I barely had any interaction.”

“I know, but I suspect it’s because you’re there whenever I hang out with Taehyung,” Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, then ran his fingers through his hair. “So? Will you help me, Y/N?”

“This is pretty childish, don’t you think?” you told him, eyebrows furrowed.

Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll pay you. I know you need the money. Taehyung mentioned you’re saving for the deposit on this apartment you want to rent.”

You stared at him, trying to find any trace of mischief in his eyes and body language but found none. Jungkook was serious. A part of you knew that the logical answer would be to decline his offer. It was childish, as you had told him. It was a nuisance and it would do nothing but bring problems and complications in your life. Your life was complicated enough, and you didn’t need to add Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend to your list of complications.

But this was Jeon Jungkook. The person you had been in love with since you were thirteen. The person you supported, cheered on, and loved unconditionally from afar because it was all that you could do. You would be lying if you said that you did not imagine yourself being his girlfriend—going to every game, wearing his jersey, riding his motorcycle, going on dates, taking lots of photos and videos of him, hugging, and even kissing him—because you did, countless times. You would also be lying if you didn’t think that you could love him better than Haemin ever did.

They said love makes you do crazy things. You didn’t think that applied to you. You loved Jeon Jungkook, and you didn’t think that that love would fade anytime soon. So, even though you knew that this was pretend and paid, you said, “Okay. I’ll do it.”

After your orders arrived, the both of you continued your conversation.

“So, how will this work?” you asked, sipping your iced chocolate drink.

Jungkook put up a finger, chewing the cheeseburger he ordered, and afterwards, he replied, “We act like a couple. Go on dates, post them on social media, and all that.”

You were never someone who did things half-assed. If you were going to get paid to fake date someone, you might as well go all out. Also, perhaps, a part of you just wanted to make the most out of being Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend.

“I don’t think that would be enough to make Haemin jealous. If you really want that, we should do the things you either only did with her or promised to do with her,” you pointed out.

Jungkook nodded. “I see. You got a point.”

“So, what are those things? The things you did for her and the things you promised to do with her?”

He inhaled deeply, scratching the side of his nose as he thought. “Well, I pick her up everyday. Take her out on picnic dates, study with her, and I go to her recitals.”

You nodded. “Okay. Then, you should pick me up everyday, take me out on picnic dates, study with me, and well, I don’t really do any recitals.”

“Alright. I’ll do that,” Jungkook grinned. “As for the things I promised to do with her—the first thing that popped in my mind was that I promised I’ll take her to my brother’s wedding.”

“We shouldn’t involve our families in this. Me being Taehyung’s cousin is complicated enough,” you remarked.

“Okay. How about this? We made plans to go out of town during winter break. Do you wanna do that?”

“Where?”

“My sister-in-law runs a small resort in Busan. It’s by the beach,”

You pressed your lips together, nodding. “Okay. That could work.”

“For my part, you have to go to my games. That’s pretty much all you have to do, and of course, the dates.”

“That’s already a given,” you told him. “I’m assigned to cover your games this season.”

“Right. You are the News editor of the Times. I’m honored,” Jungkook placed a hand on his chest, bowing his head at you.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I have a question.”

“Go for it.”

“What will happen when Haemin gets jealous? Will we “break up” and the two of you will get back together?” you asked, cautiously, but also curiously.

“I have no plans of getting back together with her,” Jungkook answered. “But when she finally gets jealous and tells me about it, then revenge is served. I guess then we’ll break up. But don’t worry, I’ll pay you handsomely every time so you could move into that apartment of yours. It’s the least I could do after you agreed to do this with me.”

It shouldn’t have stung the way it did. After all, this was only paid and pretend, but it did.

“Alright,” you said. “We should shake hands on it.”

You extended your hand toward him and Jungkook sealed the deal with his firm handshake. “Starting today, you’re my girl, Y/N.”

You would be the first to admit that looking after Kim Taehyung was something you did out of debt of gratitude toward his parents. After your father passed away when you were only eleven years old, your mother couldn’t afford to send you to school, so his parents financed your education since then and until now that you were in college. You lived with Taehyung at the condominium they bought for him near the university and since you were on scholarship through your membership at the official student publication of Jamsil University, The Jamsil Times, they only paid for your miscellaneous fees every semester.

Because of these, you felt like Taehyung was your responsibility. You had to take care of him, look after him, tutor him, make sure he did all his school work, attend his classes, and be there every time he asked you to. It felt like when it came to him and his parents, you couldn’t say no because if you did, you could easily lose your housing and education.

It didn’t help that Taehyung seemed to attract trouble wherever he was. He even gained a nickname for it in high school which followed him in college, “Trouble Taehyung.” You couldn’t remember the times you apologized on his behalf, woke up in the middle of the night from a call from one of his so-called friends asking if you could pick him up as he was drunk and bruised, and ensured none of his troubles reached his parents.

Tonight was no different.

You woke up from the sound of your phone vibrating against your desk. You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep, studying for your upcoming midterms exam, and when you woke up, you could feel the soreness of your neck and lower back. With one eye open, your vision adjusted to the bright light coming from your phone, and saw Park Jimin’s name flashing on your screen. Immediately, you knew why he was calling you. There could only be one reason: Kim Taehyung.

“Hello?” your voice was hoarse, groggy from your slumber.

“Y/N? I’m sorry I woke you up, didn’t I? It’s—,”

“Taehyung, I know. What happened this time?” you sighed deeply, rubbing your face with your free hand. “Where are you guys?”

“He got into an argument with this guy, and well, it led to a fight. He’s bruised, bleeding, but he refuses to go to a hospital, but—,”

“Hey! Is that Y/N? I told you not to call her, Park Jimin!” you could hear Taehyung’s voice in the background which made you sigh once more. Moments later, it was Taehyung who was on the call with you. “Y/N, sorry. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Jimin’s just a worry wart.”

“Taehyung,” you were tired and it was evident in your tone. “Go to the hospital if you’re bleeding. It might get infected.”

“I can’t,” he replied. “Mom is going to find out. It’s a small world, you know that,” his tone was low, cautious, as though he did not want anyone else hearing him. “I’m fine. I’ll put on some ointment and band-aid and I’m good.”

You wished you didn’t give a shit about him. But you did. Whether it was out of debt of gratitude or not, you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t help him. Perhaps, you had gotten so used to it that it had become a part of you already, like a hobby, like a memory.

“Where are you, Taehyung?”

“Y/N, seriously, I’m—,”

“Taehyung, just tell me where you are,” your patience was wearing thin and Taehyung knew that.

“We’re at Jungkook’s apartment,” he muttered.

Even the mention of his name was enough for the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. Even by just hearing his name, your irritation seemed to slowly fade away.

“Okay. I’ll be there in a while. I’m gonna use your car, okay?”

“Okay. Y/N, I’m sorry,” Taehyung apologized and you could hear his sincerity.

“Don’t be,” you told him as you stood up from your chair. “See you. I’ll hang up now.”

Just how deep does blood run?

You were at Jungkook’s apartment minutes later, thanks to no traffic and him only living fifteen minutes from Taehyung’s condominium. When you rang the bell to his unit, you already expected that he would be the one to answer the door. You just didn’t expect that he would be wearing gray sweatpants and a white loose muscle tee showing off his toned tattooed arm. Seeing him in that light, you couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him. Jungkook was truly a sight to see.

“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile. “Come inside.”

“Thanks,” you told him, entering his apartment. It was simple, neat, and smelled of vanilla. You took off your shoes by the doorway, placing a hand on the wall beside you. “Where’s Taehyung?”

“Kitchen,” he replied behind you. “Y/N,” his hot breath fanned over your exposed neck, making you shiver. “I’ll linger around you, alright? That way, they could get a hint that something’s going on with us. Is that okay?” he whispered.

His low tone was simply mesmerizing. “Okay,” you breathed out. Thank god you had your hand on that wall otherwise you would have literally fallen.

“Okay,” he chuckled, and led the way to the kitchen.

“Y/N!” Taehyung exclaimed when he saw you. He was sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen island while Jimin looked through the refrigerator.

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and made your way toward him, placing the plastic bag you hand in your hand on the counter beside you. Taehyung jumped off the stool he was sitting on, instantly giving you a squeezing hug. He was always an affectionate boy growing up. You weren’t so you found it uncomfortable at first. But the more Taehyung did it, you got used to it.

“Let me see your bruise,” you guided him back to the stool, and began taking out the first aid you bought along the way. The bruise wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. You were expecting that he would have a black eye, a deep cut that would need stitches, but it was manageable by you. Jimin was overreacting, you concluded. “What happened? How did you get this?”

As you began to clean the cut on Taehyung’s cheek, Jimin sat down across from your cousin while Jungkook made his way near you.

“One minute I was dancing next to some girl, the next, her boyfriend landed a punch on my face. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend—she told me she was single,” Taehyung explained.

“Didn’t know my ass,” Jimin scoffed. “Everyone knows Heejin is with Taemin. Everyone also knows that Taemin’s a crazy jealous bastard. You were just looking for trouble, as always.”

“I was not,” your cousin retorted, throwing the medical tape you bought at his friend.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance. “Stop it, you two,” you hissed, pressing the cotton ball a bit harder against Taehyung’s bruise. He winced. “Is that true?” you asked him.

Taehyung didn’t answer. You sighed.

“You knew it was wrong, and yet, you did it anyway knowing it’ll just get you in trouble,” you muttered. “Why did you do it?”

Taehyung sighed deeply. “Because Taemin’s a piece of shit.”

“You’re also a piece of shit,” Jimin snorted. “Both of you are the biggest pieces of shit at Jamsil.”

“Do you wanna get punched?”

“Let’s go right now,”

“Hey, stop it. You’re so fucking loud,” Jungkook reprimands the two bickering men. “You already woke me up from my sleep by going here. Don’t wake up the entire fucking building.”

Moments later, you finished tending to Taehyung’s cut. “All done. Come on, let’s go home.”

Taehyun didn’t protest. You began to clean up your mess, placing everything back into the plastic bag. Silence filled Jungkook’s kitchen. The three of you weren’t close so there were no conversations where all of you could participate.

“Let’s go,” you bowed your head at Jimin as a farewell which he returned. Then, your eye caught Jungkook’s gaze. You weren’t sure what to do. Fortunately, Jungkook was quick-witted.

“I’ll walk you guys out,” he said coolly, pushing himself off of the sink he was leaning against.

“No need. Just go back to sleep. Thanks for letting us in,” Taehyung shook his head, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he passed by him.

“I insist,” Jungkook responded.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Jimin asked Jungkook as he made his way out of the kitchen.

“Yeah sure,”

You followed Jungkook and Taehyung out of the former’s apartment. As you and your cousin slipped on your shoes, Jungkook waited outside his apartment.

“Are you mad at me?” Taehyung asked, meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you assured him. “But you have to stop involving and getting yourself into trouble, Tae. Sooner or later, you’ll end up getting really hurt.”

“I will, I promise,” he smiled at you and you nodded, exiting the apartment.

The three of you walked down the hallway; the two boys walking on your sides. You weren’t sure if Jungkook was consciously doing it, but it was making your heart pound. Whenever your fingers brushed against his, there was an electric shock that flew through your body. And as you reached the end of the hallway and in front of the elevator, and when the doors opened, Jungkook placed his hand at your lower back, gesturing you to enter the lift first.

You looked at him, and there was a knowing smile plastered on his face that made you blush. “After you,” he said.

You were fucking lovestruck.

Championships cast a spell in your school. Jamsil University’s premier sport was basketball and with an all-star lineup this year—it was not even up for discussion that your university would be one of the teams playing out to become this year’s champions.

To say the least, sports were not your thing. While you understood the basics, it wasn’t something you were interested in. Your father had enrolled you in a tennis class once but after witnessing how, simply out, awful you are at the sports, he dropped the ‘I want my daughter to be athletic’ narrative he was going for. That being said, you rarely attended any of the games Jamsil athletes participated in. But seeing as you were assigned to cover the basketball games this season, you had no other choice. Besides, your “boyfriend” was playing.

That’s how you found yourself at the gym of Jamsil, stressed as you took pictures and typed down the game on your phone. Frustrated, you sat on the bench behind you as the bell rang, signaling the end of the first half. As you read the draft on your notepad, you shook your head at the numerous times you used the word ‘tackle’—in your defense, it was all that you could see during the game. It was a particularly brutal game which made you wonder, was the game something more personal for the players? You only heard rumors, after all.

With a sigh, you made a mental note to fix the notes once you’re home. Standing up, you placed the phone inside your jeans’ back pocket and readied the Times’ camera to capture the ‘Half-time huddle’ that Bang Chan, the Sports Editor, had specifically asked you to take. As you made your way towards the basketball team, you took some shots of the audience as well as the Jamsil’s Cheerleading Team performing in the middle of the court. The blaring music and loud cheers from both schools as the cheerleaders performed filled the entire gymnasium, unconsciously making you smile. It was not everyday that you saw some sort of unity at your uni.

You focused your camera on the huddled team of Jamsil but dissatisfied, you tried another angle. Bang Chan’s words play in your mind: “The half-time huddle is one of the most important shots during these games, Y/N. The play they’re setting up will either make them or break them. Make sure you capture it.”

Then, the idea hit you. You hurriedly made your way on the other side of the team, hearing Coach Song’s booming voice telling his players the game even with all the screaming and cheers. You moved the towels and water bottles on the bench aside, then you stepped on it and placed the camera above the huddled team. Smiling, you knew you found the perfect angle. Making sure that the camera was focused, you inhaled deeply and as you were about to click the shutter button—a face turned to face the lens and a gasp escaped your lips, shocked and you felt yourself losing balance. Bracing for impact, you clutched the camera tightly against your chest and closed your eyes with one thing in mind: If this breaks, I am so screwed.

It felt like eternity as you waited for the impact. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of round brown eyes, staring at you in concern, eyebrows furrowed. Your breath hitched in your throat as realization hit you. Around your waist, you felt strong arms supporting you; hot breath fanned your face and you felt something liquid dripping on your forehead.

“Y/N, are you okay?” When he spoke, you immediately snapped back to reality and you wriggled yourself out of his grip—flustered and ground-swallow-me-up embarrassed. Your cheeks were burning as you collected yourself. “Y/N?”

It was as if the entire gymnasium had their focus on you and Jungkook.

“Jeon, what the fuck, get back here,” Coach Song hissed.

Fuck me, you thought as you cleared your throat. “Thanks,” you whispered to him.

Jungkook smiled—the boyishly charming smile that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. Then, he did something that made you fall in love with him all over again.

“Wish me luck, babe,” Jungkook said before wrapping his tattooed arm around your waist and placing a kiss on your cheek. “The game’s on, Y/N. No turning back now.”

You wished this was real. His kiss was real. But even if it wasn’t, indeed, there was no turning back now. The game had begun.

PART TWO

As predicted and expected, Jamsil won the championship. But instead of the student body celebrating the fourth championship in a row, apparently, the majority could only talk about you and Jungkook—specifically the kiss he gave you on the cheek. You had expected this, of course. After all, Jeon Jungkook was Jamsil University’s golden boy. He was popular, smart, and overall, an exemplary student who not only excelled in his sports, but in his academics as well. Moreover, he was also the president of the photography club.

What you didn’t expect was Taehyung lashing out at you. You expected him to be confused, baffled, in disbelief, but lashing out at you? You were confused, to say the least. Taehyung had never done it before.

After finishing covering the basketball game, you hurriedly made your way back to the Publication Office. Once there, you took off the camera around your neck, breathing heavily. With both your hands on your table, you hung your head low, squeezing your eyes shut, and letting yourself calm down. It was during this moment that the door at the office swung open and your cousin stepped in.

You looked at him over your shoulder and for the first time, you saw fury in his eyes.

“You’re dating Jungkook?” He asked. “Tell me the truth.”

With your lips pressed tightly, you nodded. Taehyung scoffed, tilting his head to the side, and shaking it in disbelief.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N? You and Jungkook?” He pressed, taking a step towards you. “When did it start? How did it start? Why are you dating him?”

“I don’t really need to explain myself to you, Taehyung,” you told him. “Especially who I’m dating.”

“Yes, you do. You need to explain that to me,” he retorted.

“Why? Why do I need to explain it to you?”

“Because you’re dating my fucking best friend and you’re my cousin!” He exclaimed, catching you off guard as you flinched. When he saw this, Taehyung’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I just—I don’t get it.”

“What don’t you get?” you asked, turning to completely face him. “Why someone like me is with someone like him?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I mean,” Taehyung sighed deeply. “I just feel like—like the two most important people in my life betrayed me.”

You exhaled deeply. In a way, you could understand him. You could understand where he was coming from. But before you could respond, Jungkook appeared by the doorway of the office.

“Don’t get mad at her, Tae, it’s my fault for not telling you first,” Jungkook said. He was still in his jersey, covered in sweat, and one hand holding a bottle of red Gatorade. There was a towel hanging around his neck. He walked towards you, and when he stood beside you, he held your hand. “I’m sorry if you feel like we betrayed you. We just wanted to find the right time to tell you.”

“Right time,” Taehyung scoffed once more. “It didn’t look like it when you kissed her.”

Jungkook squeezed your hand. It sent a jolt throughout your body. “What was I supposed to do? My girlfriend was there,” Jungkook’s response only riled Taehyung more. Upon seeing this, the basketball player said, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. But there’s nothing you could do or say that could make us break up, Tae. I’m sorry but you’re just gonna have to deal with it.”

“Can you fucking leave? I need to talk to Y/N privately,” Taehyung hissed, rolling his eyes.

This time, you cut Jungkook before he could reply. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’ll see you after.” You looked at your fake boyfriend, smiling at him.

Jungkook looked like he didn’t want to leave so you squeezed his hand. He clicked his tongue, sighing. “I’ll change and meet you outside the building.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

You nodded and once again, he pressed his lips against your cheek, making you blush but now, out of embarrassment because your cousin was literally in front of you. Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back. “Leave, Jeon Jungkook!” He exclaimed, pulling him off of you.

Jungkook chuckled before making his way out of the office.

Once he was out of earshot, Taehyung stepped closer towards you. “Y/N, you’re right—who you date is not something I should mind or dictate. But you’re my cousin and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt. Jungkook—he’s my best friend in the world and has been since we were little. I know him. So, the two of you together—I just can’t accept it.”

You didn’t know why you were feeling angry as the seconds passed. “We’re not asking for your blessing, Taehyung.”

“Y/N, you don’t understand. Jungkook may be charming and all that goody two shoes shit in front of everyone, but he’s trouble. You’re only setting yourself up for a lifetime of heartbreak,” your cousin shook his head. “Please. Date whoever you want; not just Jungkook.”

“I made up my mind, Tae,” you said, shaking your head. “I want to be with him and you can’t do anything about it. I’m gonna go home. I’m tired and exhausted. I know you’ll be going to the afterparty so please don’t get yourself into trouble. Take care, Tae.”

“Y/N,” he called out but you didn’t respond anymore. You just packed up your things. “Y/N, please.”

“See you at home, Tae,” you gave him a small smile before leaving the office.

Why was he so adamant that you don’t date Jeon Jungkook? This question popped in your head as you were making your way out of the Communications building. But you erased it in your mind—Taehyung was just shocked, probably weirded out too that his best friend and cousin were dating.

Why is he trouble? Another question propped in your mind.

You sighed deeply. All these questions would be answered when you meet with Jungkook as you made a mental note to ask him. For now, you just wanted to rest.

The buzzing sound of your phone vibrating against your desk woke you up from your slumber. With a groan, you sat up, stretching your arms wide, cracking your neck, and letting out a relieved sigh. You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but the last thing you remembered was fixing your planner. When you looked at the caller ID, Jungkook’s name flashed on the screen. For a moment, you were confused why he was calling you, and then it hit you.

I’ll change and meet you outside the building.

You quickly answered the call. “Jungkook, hey.”

“Y/N, are you okay? I waited for you outside the Comm building, but Taehyung said you went home. I’ve been trying to reach you,” Jungkook sounded concerned, in contrast to the sound of cheering and music in the background. He must have been at the afterparty already, you concluded.

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “I’m sorry. I was just tired so I went home. Are you at the afterparty?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “The guys dragged me to it, but it’s not really fun. Or maybe I’m just not in the mood. I’m glad you’re okay though. I was worried.”

Your heart fluttered yet again.

“I’m okay. Have fun at the afterparty,” you said, rubbing your eye with your knuckle.

“Y/N, I was hoping you could come tonight, here, at the afterparty, and start our agreement.”

Just like that, you were reminded of reality.

“Oh,” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound disappointed. “Um, I don’t know where that is.”

It was common knowledge that invitations for after parties at Jamsil for championships were only through word of mouth. Not everyone was invited. The only reason you knew of the location of the last three after parties were because of, again, your cousin Taehyung.

“It’s okay, I’ll come pick you up.”

“I don’t know what I should wear. I don’t go to a lot of parties,” you said, playing with the loose thread on the hem of the shirt you were wearing. It was a habit of yours whenever you were nervous—you needed to play with something whether it was your necklace, earrings, rings, sleeves, etcetera.

“It doesn’t matter. You look good in everything, Y/N. I’m serious,” Jungkook responded. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay? Don’t worry too much about what to wear. Just wear what’s comfortable.”

“Okay. Drive safely, Jungkook.”

When the phone call ended, you were reminded of what tonight would be, and gone were the worries about what you should wear. Tonight was going to be the night you were going to officially begin helping Jungkook take his revenge on Haemin. You felt like throwing up.

You were hit by the reality, once again, of what this agreement was about. Jungkook wasn’t being sweet to you because he wanted to but because he needed to. He wasn’t inviting you to the afterparty because he wanted to but because he needed to. He was only talking to you because he was paying you. It was time for you to take things at face value. With that in mind, you began to change.

True to his word, Jungkook arrived fifteen minutes later. It was a whiplash when you saw him at the door, waiting for you instead of your cousin. Wearing a white Calvin Klein shirt tucked under his washed jeans, black combat boots, and his curly hair parted in the middle, he was nothing short of beauty even in the simplicity of his attire. In one hand, he was clutching a denim jacket.

“Hey,” he greeted as soon as you opened the door. “You look great, Y/N.”

You suppressed the urge to smile and just nodded. Stepping outside of Taehyung’s condominium unit, you avoided his gaze. “Let’s go.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

You nodded, clutching the strap of your messenger bag. “Everything’s fine. Let’s just go. Where’s the afterparty anyway?”

“Y/N,” Jungkook’s hand found its way gently around your wrist, stopping you on your tracks. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Jungkook. I just really wanna get over this,” you said with a sigh.

“I don’t believe you,” he pointed out, still holding onto your wrist. “We don’t have to go to the afterparty if you don’t want to.”

“No, let’s go. Otherwise, how will you make Haemin jealous?” you stated, plastering a smile on your face even though you were anything but happy. “The sooner she gets jealous, the sooner she will want to be with you again, and the sooner I’ll get my deposit, and move out from here. The sooner everyone wins.”

There was an indescribable expression on Jungkook’s face. Although his grip on your wrist remained gentle, you could feel the tension brewing between the both of you.

“You’re right,” he muttered after a while. “Let’s get this over with.”

As expected, the afterparty was at a club. You hadn’t been to one but it was exactly as you expected a club to be. Packed with dancing college students, drinks everywhere, smoke in the air, suffocating you the moment you entered the establishment, blinding red, blue, green lights, and booming EDM and Top 40 hits songs blasting on the speakers. Jungkook led the way, holding your hand tightly, and you held his just as tight. You didn’t know where he was taking you, but you guessed that it was where Haemin would be. After all, she was the reason why you were here.

So, it was a surprise when you passed by her and her friends, and toward the staircase.

“Jungkook! Where are we going?!” you yelled over the loud music. .

Jungkook didn’t respond, but you knew that he heard you because he pulled you closer to him. And you let him lead you because it was him. You’d let him lead you anywhere if it meant being this close to him. Because no matter what you tell yourself—that this was all fake and pretend and paid—a part of you would always, always believe that he, in some way, reciprocated your feelings sincerely.

Jungkook passed by the people greeting him along the way until, finally, you reached the empty rooftop. Overlooking the city and its skylines, it was simply breathtaking. There were only broken benches, bottles of beers and discarded cigarette buds on the rooftop along with cracked pots of withered flowers. Here, Jungkook let go of your hand, reached for something from his denim jacket’s pocket—a pack of cigarette and lighter—and offered it to you.

“I don’t smoke,” you simply stated. It was news to you that he smoked. You knew athletes were forbidden due to health reasons, but you weren’t also naive that you didn’t think some did.

He nodded, picked one from the box, placed it in between his lips, lit it up, and began to smoke. You took a deep breath, and made your way toward the edge of the rooftop. Moments later, Jungkook was beside you.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he said, the smell of cigarette strong, making you nauseous. But you didn’t tell him that.

You thought hard. Jungkook knew nothing about you besides being Taehyung’s cousin. It shouldn’t be that hard but it was, for some reason. And so, you said, “There’s really not much that you should know.”

To which he replied, “Oh, come on, there must be something,” He nudged your side slightly, letting out a chuckle as he took a long drag. “Don’t think too hard. Just tell me the first thing that comes to your mind.”

And so, you did. Before you knew it, you said, “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

“Seriously?” Jungkook asked, but it wasn’t in the disgusted, you’re-in-your-twenties-and-yet-you-haven’t-kissed-somebody kind of way. It was more of a genuine shock. Like it was the hardest thing in the world to believe in.

You chuckled, nodding. “I don’t know. I just feel weird about it.”

“But were there any instances where you came close to kissing somebody?” he pressed, flicking his cigarette.

“Of course, but when it came to it, I just couldn’t. It just didn’t feel…” you trailed off, unsure of what the right word was.

“Right?” Jungkook suggested and you nodded. “I see.”

“How about you?” you asked. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“I want to be somebody’s first kiss, and that somebody happens to be you.”

He was the only one who could do it—cause your heart to do somersaults inside you while also making it beat so fast that you were afraid he would hear it. It was the way he stared at you at that moment, eyes flickering from your eyes which reflected the cityscape below you and the smoke from his cigarette to your parted lips, unsure of what to say from his revelation.

“Do you think it’d feel right if I kiss you, Y/N?”

And like always, your mind and heart screamed: this was Jungkook. Who else would you want to be your first kiss? Since you were thirteen, you had been in love with him. You only imagined this in your head, in your wildest dreams.

And so, you nodded, afraid that if you spoke, no words would leave.

Jungkook nodded too, and he crushed his cigarette on top of the edge of the rooftop. He stepped towards you, cupped your face, and for a moment, the world stood still. Closing your eyes, you waited for his lips to crash onto yours.

And when it finally did, it was nothing that you had ever imagined.

No sparks.

No fireworks.

It was simple, mundane, ordinary—it was a kiss.

You held onto Jungkook’s wrists as he deepened the kiss, and yet, there were still none of the romantic aspects that you thought would happen during your first kiss. Even when Jungkook moved his hands from your face and around your waist, nothing. It tasted so bitter due to the mix of nicotine and beer that he had.

But you didn’t mind. You were kissing Jeon Jungkook, your fake boyfriend, at a party, where all his peers were. And for that, your first kiss was still memorable.

Oh, how Jeon Jungkook twisted your world.

PART THREE

You had no recollection whatsoever of what happened last night; much less how you got back to your shared condominium unit with Taehyung. But if you were to guess, your cousin probably brought you home as you vaguely remembered him being at the afterparty—much to his chagrin that you came with his best friend. Other moments were like missing puzzle pieces. You only remembered flashes, and you groaned when you felt the throbbing in your temple became stronger.

Usually, you could hold your liquor better than this. In fact, this was the first time, in a long while, that you could remember having a hangover. Your mother was your drinking buddy—started drinking with you when you were a junior in high school, and although she shouldn’t have done that, you didn’t mind. Your mother was a great mother. Your mother was your best friend. Your mother was a great parent. Yes, she had her shortcomings, but who didn’t? Certainly not you. You remembered the first time she asked you to try Soju, and subconsciously, it brought a smile to your face, and a low chuckle to escape your lips. You made a mental note to text her later.

As you left your bed, there was a knock on your bedroom door. Knowing it was your cousin, you told him to come in while you fixed your bed, and looked for your phone in the process.

“Your phone’s in your bag,” Taehyung muttered as he stepped inside your room, and leaned against the wall of the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “I brought you home too. Jungkook wanted to, but he rode a motorcycle, and you were wasted. It wasn’t safe.”

You nodded in understanding. You figured out that much. Like what Taehyung said, your phone was indeed inside your bag. Quickly, you unlocked it, and checked your notifications. Some were just annoying spam emails, app notifications, and automated messages from your SIM provider, but there was one message that made your heart beat quickly due to panic that you didn’t even notice Jungkook’s message.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you,” Taehyung said.

“We will talk, but not right now, I’m late for my tutoring session, Tae,” you hurriedly told him as you texted your tutee that you would be late, but that you would come since it was his midterms next week.

“Y/N, I’m serious. I still don’t approve of you and Jungkook dating.”

You should have expected this. In the years you spent with Taehyung, you should have known that he wasn’t the type of person who could accept “no” as an answer, and not getting what he wanted when and if he wanted it. You thought it only applied to everything else in his life; apparently, it also applied to your dating life.

“Taehyung, haven’t we gotten over this? Who I date is not yours to dictate,” you shook your head, sighing deeply as you gathered everything you needed for your quick shower. You were definitely not going to attend your tutoring session dressed from last night, and smelling like beer and nicotine.

“Jungkook’s a piece of shit as a boyfriend, Y/N. He’s crazy possessive and he gets so fucking jealous. His charming persona is just that—a persona. I don’t want you to get hurt by him, Y/N, please.”

The desperation in his voice was evidently obvious. When you looked at him, you were unsure of what to say. How could he say that to his own best friend?

“If he’s like that—,”

“He is like that,”

“Then why are you still friends with him?” you asked, pointedly. When Taehyung couldn’t give you an answer, you nodded. “Right. I thought so. I’m going now, Tae. This conversation is over.”

When you arrived at Jamsil’s library, you were forty five minutes late to your session with Yang Jungwon, a freshman from your program, Journalism with a major in Investigative Reporting. You found him in your usual spot, writing away on his yellow pad while nodding his head along the music he was listening to. Inhaling deeply, you made your way toward him. When you were finally near him, you tapped on his shoulder, causing him to jump a little, but when he saw you—his deep dimpled smile appeared on his face.

Yang Jungwon was like the little brother you never had but wished you had. You felt bad for thinking that way because you had Taehyung, but as stated, looking after him felt more like a responsibility you had no other choice but to take upon. With Jungwon, even though you were paid to help him with his studies, it never felt like a responsibility to you. You enjoyed spending time with him, helping him out, and sometimes, if the conversation steered into the direction, you enjoyed your deep and meaningful conversations with him.

You smiled back at him, and took the seat beside him, sitting on it. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Jungwon. You can tell your mom that she doesn’t need to pay me for this session.”

He shook his head. “No, noona. It’s okay. I didn’t mind the waiting. I got to use it to answer your mock tests.”

“Really? Let me see. What did you answer first?” you asked, taking your messenger bag off of your shoulder, placing it on the table.

“The Contemp—,” Jungwon began to say, but then he stopped, which caused you to tear your gaze away from the mock test in your hands, and to your tutee. You followed his gaze, and to your surprise, you saw Jungkook sitting across from you and Jungwon with a gentle smile on his face. He had his lip ring on—it was the first thing you noticed about him that day.

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. Why did it feel like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do? Why did you suddenly feel anxious?

Taehyung’s words rang in your ears: He’s crazy possessive. His charming persona is just that—a persona.

Was all of it true? Was that the reason why he was here? Because you were with another guy?

“I guess you didn’t read my message, babe,” he chuckled. “I told you not to buy lunch anymore because I cooked some for you. Here, you can share it with your friend…” he trailed off, politely smiling at Jungwon.

“H-Hello, I’m Yang Jungwon,” Jungwon stammered, starstruck that Jamsil’s golden boy was talking to him.

“Hello, Jungwon. It’s nice to meet you. You can just call me hyung,” Jungkook turned to you. “I’ll get going now, okay?” He pushed the lunch box towards you. “Eat. There’s hangover soup in there too.”

You gave him a look to which he grinned at. “Ah, don’t worry, Jungwon. She can tutor you even though she’s dr—,”

“Okay, thank you, Jeon Jungkook,” you interrupted him, making his grin wider. You shook your head at him, but you couldn’t hide the blush coating your cheeks from his sweet gesture. Then, you wondered, as Jungkook took his leave, did he do the same thing to Haemin?

“I didn’t know you and Jeon Jungkook hyung are dating,” Jungwon brought you out of your trance, gaze finally now upon him rather than the absent figure of Jungkook.

“Yeah, it just happened,” you said to him. “But come on, let’s focus on your mock tests.”

Yet despite saying that, you were the one who couldn’t focus because the only thing in your mind was: how did Jungkook know you were at the library?

Taehyung’s words plagued your mind the entire day. Even while you were working, all you could think about was his words about his best friend. How could he say those things about Jungkook? Someone he’d been best friends with since they were little? Why was he so adamant about you not dating him? Taehyung usually kept a distance from your personal life, not even asking about your mother because he knew of the complicated relationship your family had with his family. So, why was he all over your case now that you were “dating” Jungkook? You couldn’t understand. You couldn’t wrap your head around it.

Although you confirmed with the library interaction that Jungkook wasn’t the possessive type, seeing as he just walked away after giving you the lunch box, and even let Jungwon call him hyung, there was still that nagging thought in your mind: what if Taehyung’s word held weight? What if they were true?

You thought about it: if they were true, even when you were only fake dating, would he still be as possessive as Taehyung said he was? What happened for your cousin to even tell you something like that?

Your thoughts were put on a halt when your manager called for your name. You worked as a part-time waitress at a restaurant called Rado. You used to be a full-time employee, but since you were in your last year of uni, you asked if you could still be employed on a part-time basis, and fortunately, your manager, Han Somin, agreed.

“Yes, Ms. Han?” you asked as you entered her small office inside the employees’ locker room.

“Y/N, hi, come inside, I just have something to tell you,” she said, taking her eyeglasses off, and kindly smiling at you. You nodded and did as told. “It’s nothing serious,” she continued, which alleviated the nerves sinking in your bones. “I just wanted to ask if you wanted to be part of this party we’re catering to on Saturday. It’s a listening party for an artist named J-Hope; he released a new album. Maybe you’ve heard of him.”

You shook your head. “No, Ms. Han. But I’d love to be part of the staff. Where would it be held?”

“It’ll be held at his label’s function room. I’ll send you the details, alright?” You nodded, then she dismissed you, and went back to work.

Money had always been a sensitive topic for you. Growing up, you knew that you didn’t have a lot but you were comfortable due to both of your parents’ wages. Your father was a simple office man while your mother had her own small flower shop. They were able to provide for your basic needs and wants but when your father passed away—your mother’s earnings at the flower shop weren’t sustainable. Hence, at an early age, you learned how to look for jobs, and learned the value of money and earning it. Hence, the reason why, besides loving Jungkook all your life, you simply could not half-ass fake dating him because it was innate in you that when you do a job, you give it your hundred percent.

Part of you wished you didn’t have to worry about your finances. That, like other students at Jamsil, you could have fun and enjoy college life without worrying if you would still have a roof over your head eve though you failed an exam or if you would still be able to eat the next day if you buy a food late at night because you were so hungry that you couldn’t sleep.

Having money meant having freedom to do all the things that you wanted to do—and you weren’t free. Not yet, anyway, but moving to your own place was a start. That’s why no matter what people say, you would see fake dating Jeon Jungkook through because whether you liked it or not—he was the key to your freedom.

Saturday rolled around quickly. Adorned in your Rado’s uniform—a simple white linen long sleeve polo shirt, black slacks, black high heels, and your hair pulled back to show your face—you were already at the label’s function room preparing for the listening party of J-Hope. His music had been playing since you got there and you felt yourself being immersed and vibing to it that you made a mental note to check his other songs out afterwards.

You were in charge of the food and drinks. Ms. Han was also present to supervise and with you was your co-worker, Kang Seulgi, and Kim Hanbin. It was an intimate type of party; hence, the small group of staff and catering.

“I wonder who we’ll see here,” Seulgi told you as she placed the food fingers on the table while you poured drinks into the glasses.

“I heard it’s just indie artists that J-Hope invited. It’s the target audience for his album, you see,” Hanbin piped in, fixing his necktie.

“Whoever it is, I’m sure—,”

“Kim Y/N, it’s nice to see you here,”

You only heard that voice a couple of times but you wouldn’t mistake it for another. It was ingrained in your mind so deeply. It was the voice of the person you hoped was you for a long time—who got to touch, kiss, hug, care, and love Jeon Jungkook for four years. It was the voice of the person who was Jeon Jungkook’s first love, and most likely still loved. It was the voice of the person that was never going to be you in his life. It was the voice of:

“Lee Haemin.”

PART FOUR (a sneak peek)

“Lee Haemin.”

In one word, she was beautiful. Dressed in a small black dress with thin straps and a pair of black heels, her silky black hair pulled back, showing off her idol-like face, Lee Haemin was just a sight to behold. Smiling at you, she took a step forward.

“Is it okay if we talk?” she asked.

As though you were hypnotized, you nodded wordlessly. A part of you already knew what the talk would be, or at least that’s what you thought. Nodding back, Haemin smiled at Seulgi and Hanbin before leading you out of the function room and somewhere more private. She opened a door leading to what seemed like the conference room, and gestured that you enter first so you did. She followed in suit, and you took a short time to look at your surroundings.

It was all white with an oval table in the middle and black swivel chairs surrounding it. Adjacent to you were the ceiling to floor windows, showcasing the city landscape. Connected at the top was a projector and on the left side was a projector screen. You wondered how Haemin got access to such room, and as though reading your mind, she said:

“My family owns a stock, if you’re wondering why I got access to this room. We can pretty much use any room in the company.”

Nodding your head, you turned to face her. “I see. That’s great. I didn’t know that.”

“Not many people do,” she answered. “But that isn’t really why I wanted to talk to you.”

“I know,” you replied. “You wanna talk about Jeon Jungkook.”

Haemin smiled. “I heard you’re dating him.”

“From who? Taehyung?” You knew they were friends. Not exactly close, but they were acquainted due to Jungkook.

She shook her head. “From Jungkook." Stunned, your mouth parted ways a little. Haemin smiled. "Surprising, I know, but it truly was him who told me that he was with you."

"Why would he say that to you?"

"Because he loved me first."

And it was the truth. The truth hurts but it was the truth nevertheless. You weren't the first person he ever loved, ever had a deep and humane connection with. Everything about your relationship was a lie, a cover up. Theirs was true and real. Jungkook loved Haemin; not you.

Forcing a smile upon your face, you answered, “He loves me now. I don’t see the point of having this conversation, to be honest.”

“No, he doesn’t love you, Y/N. He wants you. Those two things are different,” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Hence, Haemin continued, “Loving someone lights up your world. Wanting someone, now that’s a different thing. To want something is to own it.”

“And your point? Jungkook wants to own me?” Even your words sent shivers down your spine. You loved Jungkook since you could remember. But did you want him to own you?

“Yes,” she replied. “Jungkook’s the type of person who gets and gets and gets and never likes to not have what he wants, what he needs. I’m telling you all these because prior to him dating you,” she smiled when she said ‘dating’ as though she knew it was only fake. “He lost me. Now he’s trying to get you to get me back, to own me again. But I don’t want that anymore. I don’t love him anymore. Don’t trap yourself. Get out as early as you can.”

You didn’t know what to say. So, you did the only thing you could do: walk away. But then Haemin called your name, and you stopped on your tracks, looking at her over your shoulder. “Don’t let love blind you, Y/N. I know you’ve loved him for years, but he’s only going to break you—mind, body, soul.”

“Thank you for the advice, Haemin,” you told her. “But I didn’t need it. Please respect my relationship with Jungkook. Thank you and enjoy the night away.”

author’s note: hey guys. again, so sorry for deactivating all of a sudden. i know this isn’t much but i hope having a sneak peek into chapter four brought you a bit of joy and excitement. feel free to send me asks regarding burnout and other things. see you in price of freedom next. i’ll be posting it again on tumblr for easy viewing but it’ll also be on hold for the time being. thank you and much love, aika.

#yandere jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fics #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #yandere bts #jeon jungkook #yandere jeon jungkook #burnout by aikastales #aikastales

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pupkashi · 9 months

Text

oranges

gojo knows how to peel oranges

a/n: just something simple inspired by the poem oranges by jean little, i cried the first time i read it, hope you guys enjoy <3

wordcount: 843

masterlist

there was a lot you did for satoru.

you helped ground him, reminded him to drink water, made him food, taught him how to fold clothes and do laundry, showed him all your favorites- from places to eat and videos to play.

you reminded him what love felt like, your tender touches late at night, gentle thumb pads wiping away hot tears, soft whispers and proclamations of love.

satoru always wondered what he did for you.

he didn’t think much of the quality time he’d spend with you, he thought that was a given. he often brushed past the shower of compliments he gave you daily, figuring that was the standard. the little gestures of holding doors open, buying you flowers, remembering your favorite candle scent and buying your shampoo seemed too natural to him for it to be considered and outward act of love.

“you want some oranges?” you asked, looking at him with a smile from the kitchen.

“i could go for some oranges” he replies, getting up from the couch and joining you in the kitchen, taking an orange in his hand.

his thumbs easily tear into through the peel, gently digging his finger and separating it seamlessly from the sweet fruit, continuing his motion until the peel comes completely off, all in one piece.

you on the other hand, are putting too much force into your thumb, your finger piercing straight into the flesh of the fruit, shrieking when the juice gets on your face a bit.

“how do you always peel it so neatly? i have never once been able to” you huff, setting the now punctured Orange on a towel, washing your hands in the sink before drying them off.

“cmon sweetheart it really isn’t that hard!” satoru grins, taking your orange and easily peeling it apart neatly. “you have to do this, and then… get it there and boom!” his smile widening as he stares at you, a pout on your lips and an annoyed look in your eyes.

“yeah yeah mr. ‘I’m so good at everything’” you tease, tasking the orange from his hand and munching on a piece. “they’re sweet today” you smile, putting both your pieces and satoru’s in a bowl, heading back to the couch the two of you were on.

two weeks later the two of you are cooking dinner, reading off the recipe and realizing the dish called for an orange.

“can you hand me an orange?” you ask, turning around and thanking him as he hands it to you. you were determined to not make a mess this time, it’s just an orange after all.

but as gentle as you were, the peel wouldn’t budge, and the little force you applied proved to be just a little too much as your fingers pierced through the flesh again. you groaned in frustrations satoru already taking it from his hands, a smile on his face as he so easily peeled it.

“coulda just asked” he hums, handing you the orange, you’re glaring at him, giggling when he misses your nose.

“thank you angel boy,” you mumble, chopping the orange and adding it in.

one year later you’re sitting together in a grassy field, the wild blowing past the two of you, your laughter and love filled gazes scattered in the wind.

“i got some oranges from the market today!” you grin, taking them out of the wicker basket and showing them to your snowy haired lover. “you owe me breakfast in bed if i can finally peel this damn citrus fruit” you wager, satoru easily sitting back, a small smirk on his face as he nodded.

“I’ll do so breakfast in bed for a month if you peel it in one piece” your eyes widen at his proposition, nodding before looking at the fruit in your hands.

it’s only ten seconds later that you’re throwing yourself back, saying the fruit was obviously defective because ‘there’s no way the peel was that easy to cut through!’

satoru takes the oranges from you, peeling them perfectly and separating them into neat sections.

“I’m glad i have you to peel my citrus” you smile one night, taking the mandarin slices from his hand and humming in delight as the sweet taste hits your tastebuds.

“I’ll always peel your oranges for you” he replies, voice soft, his blue eyes seem a little lighter and his face a bit more relaxed as he looks at you.

it’s been years since then, and you never learned to peel oranges, the times you’d attempt to, juice would get everywhere and the peel coming off in chunks, the aftermath looked like an orange massacre.

satoru’s heart flutters when he sees the citrus fruit, knowing you’ll hand it to him, for him to peel for you. he knows you’ll always ask him to do this for you.

satoru is grateful everyday that you can’t peel oranges, because with the boundless things you do for him, he knows this is the one thing he’ll always be able to do for you.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

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tfrinpin · 2 months

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Hullo. I am amongst the living.

This little idea kept nagging at me, so here we are: TFP where Op goes ✨FERAL✨

So y’know that whole shtick about “they had a secret relationship all along?” Well this is sort of like that, basically— yes, Megs and Op have had a secret relationship ever since the Orion arc. Megs kept in contact because he missed Optimus SO MUCH. And the war has been going on for so long. Also they can fix Cybertron together. But MOSTLY Megs missed Optimus.

Things go along, now they’re definitely considering peace time and even drafting a treaty to share with their respective factions.

But a little bump in the road comes in the form of someone that Megs DID NOT expect to see— MegaZarak. And instead of Zarak heavily injures Optimus or tortures him, like a previous idea I’ve had before— I’ve thought of something a little more heart wrenching. Shit goes down right when Prime and Megs are about to establish peace: Zarak beats out Megs from the title as leader of the Decepticons. He retreats, and escapes via ground ridge thanks to Optimus and the crew. Knockout, BreakDown, SW, and DreadWing follow after him, ever the loyal soldiers (and they also dont want to deal with Zarak). But Optimus gets nabbed just before he jumps through the ground bridge, and he’s now a prisoner to Zarak. So to fuck with Megs even more, Zarak uses the Botched Synthetic Energon to make Op go FERAL.

Like he’s a literal beast on a leash, fangs and all— and Megs, when staging a rescue operation, is torn because he doesnt want to hurt Op, but he has no choice because OP IS FERAL AND HE WILL LITERALLY GET HIS FACE RIPPED OFF. Optimus’ optics are the striking green just like when Ratchet messed around with it earlier on in the series. (Don’t do drugs kids)

He’s got Optimus pinned and he’s trying disparately to pierce through the feral veil that’s blinding the Prime. And there’s a small, tiny moment where Optimus calms down, and his optics flash blue. He tries to speak but his words are staticky and jumbled. Megs reaches out a soothing hand over Op’s face, but unfortunately the touching moment is short lived when Optimus’ optics flash green again, and he goes back to fighting like a rabid animal.

Megs has no choice to knock Optimus out and take him to the wreckage of the Harbinger where both bots and cons have established a new base since the one is Jasper got blown to bits. So Megs is looking through the cell door of the brig, watching as a feral Op is chained to a wall, snarling, growling, and trying to rid himself of his bindings. Ratchet establishes that it’ll probably take days, maybe WEEKS to flush the botched synthetic energon from Prime’s frame. Megs, ever the stubborn mech, refuses to give up on his Prime— so he sits, and waits, and assists where he can in order to bring his Prime back to himself.

So yeah, an idea where Optimus is pretty much having to be treated like a wild beast the whole time until they can get the botched synth energon out of him.

You’re welcome.

#rinpin #tfrinpin #megop #megatron #optimus prime #transformers #tranformers prime #feral Optimus #feral op #megazarak #yeah this one is just full of angst and i just had to draw it #also the prime bots are tricky to draw the first time around but #eh #it was fun anyway #but also Megs refusing to leave his husband #and most likely will rip Zarak’s head clean off his shoulders #there’s a happy ending I swear

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honeytae · 4 months

Text

the right choice - jk

pairing: college student! jk x college student! oc

genre: fluff, friends to lovers/mutual pining

summary: for as long as you’ve known jungkook, you would think that you’ve witnessed all sides of him. but when you notice the way he’s looking at you right now, you think you may be wrong about that.

warnings: loosely based off the song yes or no, mutual pining but they’re both so clueless, IT’S SO OBVIOUS, it’s finals season so OC is stressed tf out, this jk is such a boy but he’s so sweet, he calls her pookie, OC is affectionately fed up with him but oh well, there’s a santa hat appearance, the tats and lip piercings are here to stay, vulnerability grosses the OC out, hand holding is the norm, SUSPENSE, kissing, teeny tiny bit of making out at the end

word count: 4.6k

the air in your dorm room is uncharacteristically quiet. you can almost feel that the peace won’t last long in your bones, especially with your best friend jungkook sitting a mere foot from you.

jungkook was known as the most extroverted introvert on campus. quiet at first, but once you made it into his inner circle, you were in for endless spur-of-the-moment spontaneity and long nights full of utter chaos. for now, though, you enjoy the comfortable, delightful silence in the otherwise overstimulation of your brain.

unsurprisingly, the silent scrolling of your thumb along your phone screen is soon interrupted by an oversalted pretzel smacking you on the knuckle, sadly falling to your bedspread.

“ew, jungkook!” you whine, retrieving it from your duvet cover and swiping the salt grains off the previously clean fabric. you shoot a warning look at the man sitting opposite you on your bed when he dares to snicker while watching you clean his mess.

“are you twelve?” you ask while popping the pretzel into your mouth, jungkook smirking as he leans forward to rest on his elbows

“you love it,” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows to get you to crack a smile.

“yeah, whatever,” you relent, sliding your phone into your hoodie pocket.

it’s almost like any other tuesday you two spent in your dorm. the only difference is that you have nothing but time since classes are canceled with the impending blizzard outside. there is a uniquely calming air with no assignments forcing you to sit at your desk and keep you there the rest of the night.

you set your chin in your hand as you gaze out the window, the sound of jungkook’s foot repetitively tapping on your bed frame fading into the background as you watch the flurrying snow catapulting down to whichever surface it finds first. it’s funny, you think. you used to love the snow as a kid, count down the days until the next snowstorm struck. but then you got old, you suppose; it became a stressor for you, another thing you had to deal with rather than indulge in.

“hey, what’s up with you today?”

you blink a few times after registering jungkook’s voice closing in on you, finally breaking eye contact with the window and glancing over at your inquisitive friend.

you barely suppress a snort when you realize he has a Santa hat on his head, when the fuck did he acquire that?

but as usual, it’s a ploy to get you to break a smile, and it works.

“am i acting weird?” you wonder, shifting forward so you can smack the fur ball at the end of his hat, the impact making it lay over his other shoulder. you barely stifle a laugh at the abruptness of the action, jungkook overdramatically cocking an eyebrow at you as you pet it down the right way again.

“you’re just,” he waves his hands around, gesturing wildly in an attempt to convey what he can’t verbally, “distant, i guess,” he settles on.

you suppress a smile at his struggle to express himself, an oddly charming trait you’d gotten to appreciate over the time you’d known him.

“sorry koo. i’m just a little out of it, i guess. i haven’t had much of an attention span since finals started,” you sigh, jungkook humming to himself before curling his lips up to touch his nose. it was a quirk of his you’d noticed years ago, one that meant he was thinking. it had you equally excited and terrified at the same time, because jungkook’s ideas were never… simple.

you raise your eyebrows as you watch him stand up from his seat on the end of your bed, making his way across the room and collecting his coat and yours from the hooks on your door.

“what are you doing?”

jungkook doesn’t answer you with words, instead, he just drops your coat beside you and quickly starts digging in your closet to toss you a hat.

“if you make a mess in that closet, you’re cleaning it,” you remind him, rolling your eyes at the immediate clatter noise punctuating your words.

“oops,” he mumbles, standing up and waving you off before you can say anything else. “it’s fine, i put everything back!”

you don’t fully believe him, but you know he has more respect for you than to leave your closet a complete disaster, so you hope for the best.

“if you say so,” your voice ends on a higher note, giving away your skepticism as you roll the hat on over your head.

“to answer your question, we are getting out of here for a while,” he finally explains the sudden transition from your lazy day, “you’ve been studying way too hard. you’re literally smarter than most of the class, you have no reason to stress out as much as you do about this stuff,” he shrugs, and you try to ignore the way his words make your chest warm. it’s nice to hear it once in a while, you suppose.

“should we even be going out there? there’s an advisory out for like, the whole area,” you gesture out the window where the snow billows on, staring at jungkook as he holds out your jacket for you to put your arms into.

you do, hesitantly. he does the same, stating “we’ll make it quick, don’t worry,” leading you to the door where you both step into your boots.

your lazy afternoon is evident by both of your sluggish movements. despite the heaviness of your limbs, you feel a certain buzz whenever jungkook hatches an idea. you always, always have fun with him, no matter what’s on the agenda.

today is a rare day where school and work aren’t interfering with your respective schedules, the first one in about a month. you feel a little guilty about that, to be honest.

admittedly, you sometimes get so in your own head that it becomes easy to forget about calling or texting. luckily for you, jungkook is pretty good about staying in touch. he almost always stops by on his way home from class to give you snacks to get you through your night lecture, he sends you stupid memes at all hours of the night to remind you of your synched sense of humor, and makes a habit of facetiming you whenever he witnesses something so cool you just had to see it too.

spying him out of the corner of your eye, the fondness melts right off your face when you realize he’s still adorning that dumb santa hat. his hand extends to the door handle, and your eyes widen in panic as you say his name.

“hold on,” you said, reaching out for the door, “i am not stepping out with you in this hat,” you gesture to the red monstrosity covering jungkook's head.

“what? no way, the hat is staying,” he reaches for the door again, unbothered and ready to step out before you slap your hand against the door.

“jungkook, please,” you begged, staring into his twinkling eyes as he laid his hand over yours on the door handle, an impromptu staring contest starting between you two.

ah, yes. another thing that bonded you and jungkook was your stubbornness. neither one of you settled without a good fight.

“i am not leaving here until you take that hat off. also you need to promise me we aren’t doing anything illegal,” you extend your pinky with a determined knit of your eyebrows.

“i pinky promise,” he grins as he lazily bends his pinky around yours, “but the hat stays on, pookie.”

“okay then,” you act as if you are about to kick off your shoes as you walk back to your bed, grinning when you feel him wrap his arms around your waist to pull you back to him with a whiny “nuh uh!”

“yeah, huh! we are not walking around like santa and mrs. clause right now,” you huff, eyeing the way the hat sat on his head closer as you leaned back on his chest. you hate that he actually makes the hat work for him, but it doesn’t surprise you at all. on anyone else, it would look plain stupid. jungkook has the magic touch, though; every new style, hobby, and passion he tries looks good on him.

“fine, scrooge!” he relents, “but i get to walk you to the rest of your finals looking like this,” he poses, melting into a grin when you sigh in defeat.

“see! i can compromise,” he practically sings as he tosses the hat over to your desk, holding the door open for you and following you out into the hallway with a toothy grin that voices his triumph.

you shake your head in mock disappointment, unable to stop from grinning as you pat down your coat pocket to make sure you have your key with you before pulling the door shut.

“yeah, yeah. just don’t embarrass me in public today, you doofus.”

and he hasn’t, surprisingly. but by the time you get to your destination, which jungkook deemed top secret information, you are presented with another issue. the sun is now setting and the winds are starting to pick up at a brutal pace.

“this better be worth it,” you shiver, and you swear jungkook’s teeth are chattering beside you, but you honestly can’t tell with his puffer hood so far over his face and the pelting ice coming at you from all directions.

jungkook may respond but you don’t hear it, not when he grabs your hand and hisses at the nipping breeze, making the executive decision to lead you across the crosswalk to get into the parking lot.

when you finally look up from the ground, you squeeze his hand in excitement, spying a sign on the door with ‘Bakery & Cafe’ at the forefront.

jungkook eyes you when you uncharacteristically squeal, chortling to himself when you whisper an awe-struck, “heaven.”

“enjoy it, this is the only heaven you’ll get int- okay, okay!” he bellows out a belly laugh when you rip your hand from his and recoil it to your chest, letting him reclaim it with a huff.

“you know, sometimes i think you need a clamp on that mouth,” you purse your lips at your friend, who merely hums in response as he opens the door for you to step into the warm air of the cafe.

you both sigh at the contrast in temperature, shuffling further into the establishment to eye the menu.

“find a spot and i’ll order us some good shit,” he delegates, rolling his neck to look at you when you laugh through your nose.

“some good shit? i swear to god, you better not order the whole menu again. i got way too sick to even function last time we went out!” you remind him, jungkook grinning at the memory from last semester.

“hey, all that mattered was that you enjoyed it! trust me though, i wouldn’t do that to either of us again,” he says, your confused gaze softening as he lets his bottom lip protrude in a perfect pout. goddamn your best friend and his insane duality.

it was one of the things that intrigued you the most about him. your first impression of jungkook was that he looked scary, to be honest. the only color he ever wore back when you first met was black, he had a lip ring hooked over his bottom lip, and what looked like a skeletal hand tattooed on his forearm.

however, all of your expectations were proven wrong when you got paired to work with him on a project halfway through your first semester. he was softspoken and relatively reserved at first, but once you cracked his initial shyness, he laughed a lot…and in reality, he was insanely dorky.

“i was the one with the stomachache, koo,” you remind him, leaning against his arm as you waited for the person in front of you to finish ordering.

“yeah, but i had to go to class for a week without you! professor jung almost ate me alive,” he shuddered at the memory. you roll your eyes at his dramatics, directing them sideways to look at the man.

“anyways, i was just gonna order some hotteok,” he proposes nonchalantly, but it’s obviously feigned as he knows it’s one of your favorite snacks from childhood.

he smirks when you gasp and grip his arm, immediately bobbing your head in excitement.

“okay,” he grins, “i’m serious, go pick a spot. i’m paying tonight,” he wiggles his eyebrows, taking out a stack of cash from his latest weekend gig.

“wait, seriously? no way,” your brows knit together, taking a step back to eye him skeptically when he nods. “we always go halfsies. what did you do?”

he merely squints his eyes and shoves his shoulder into yours, instinctively reaching his arm around you when you sway with the force.

“i didn’t do anything. it’s christmas, stop questioning my kindness,” he sasses, pursing his lips as he crosses his arms stubbornly.

“oh!” you gasp, placing your hand over your heart, “in the spirit of christmas!” you can’t help the sarcasm dripping from your words, and jungkook can’t help the grin on his face from spreading wider by the second.

still, he rolls his eyes. “whatever dude, you suck,” he says, but his actions contradict his words when he reaches over to pick a stray string off of your hat that was annoyingly hanging over your nose.

with that, he moves forward to take his place in line, with you scooting off to find a window booth across the cafe.

when you’ve sat down and taken your bulky winter coat off, your gaze wanders out to the blistering snow again. you notice it’s coming down harder, and you can’t help but let your mind wander to your exams tomorrow, wondering if those would end up being canceled as well. it would be nice to get another day off with jungkook, you think.

you sit there for another few minutes before you are broken out of your finals trance once again when a mug is set down in front of you, sweet chocolate immediately filling your senses as you inhale the steam coming off the liquid inside of it.

“cocoa, too?” you smile, lifting the mug to observe the whipped cream melting further down into the cup.

“duh! now eat up,” he gestures to the steaming plate of hotteok in his hands, transferring it to the table as he takes a seat next to you.

you snort at the way he immediately digs into the sugary pancakes, eyes closing in satisfaction as his head bobs from side to side in approval at the taste. you love the way his nostrils flare and he almost looks angry when he thoroughly enjoys food.

“damn, these are good,” he voices his thoughts, both of you humming in unison when you take your first bite at the same time he takes his second one.

“no shit, i literally need this recipe,” you murmur, savoring the sweet spice of the cinnamon swirled through the pancake dough.

“you distract them and i’ll steal it,” jungkook responds through a mouthful of food, round cheeks lifting when you nod your head along to his plan.

“it looks like it’s getting worse out there,” he notes after a moment of silence. he notices your plate is empty and serves you another portion onto your side platter.

“okay, grandpa,” you tease, the man pulling a look of mocked offense as you continue, “if you recall, someone just had to pick today of all days to go on an adventure off campus,” you quipped, raising your eyebrows at the man as he smirked down at his own hot chocolate resting in his palms.

“and someone has to get you back safely too. so i’d appreciate if you enjoy what you can here and we can bring the rest back whenever you’re ready,” he purses his lips stubbornly, corners of his mouth turning upward when you roll your eyes despite taking another big bite of your snack.

when all is said and done and you are both slipping back into your winter gear, there is a noticeably significant amount of snow that has accumulated on the ground since you were last out.

“shit,” you say at the same time as you step outside the warm cafe, doom looming over you in the form of gray clouds unleashing a mix of snow and hail. you loop your arm through jungkook’s when you lose your footing on the slick pavement beneath you, cursing out of shock.

“aish!” he hisses at the vision of you nearly going down, gripping you tighter when you regain your balance. he struggles to hold onto the box of leftover hotteok for a moment, but ends up rebalancing it in his palm before anything disastrous can happen. and it’s for his own good. if anything happened to that hotteok, you wouldn’t be able to let it go for days.

“you good?” he checks, reaching to pull your hat further over your ears from where it had slipped up in your near fall.

“good,” you respond, “it’s definitely time to get home, though.”

somehow, you both navigate the rest of the parking lot without another fall. clinging onto each other, you make it to the cement which has luckily been treated already to be less slick.

other than the occasional curse at the wind and snow blowing into your faces, it’s quiet. the serenity and comfort you’ve been dreaming of the past few weeks.

you feel guilty for neglecting jungkook for this section of the semester, especially knowing he probably doesn’t even hold any resentment against you for it.

“hey, thanks for getting me out today,” you murmur, jungkook’s hum nearly silent with the pitch of the wind.

“thanks for letting me,” he responds quietly, “i know it wasn’t on your agenda for today.”

you shrug your shoulder against him, “you know how i get at this time of the year. worried about making the right choices.”

he nods, having witnessed the many dilemmas you’d had over your major with the difficulty of your classes.

“but i’m pretty much always up for anything you have planned,” you grin, knocking your shoulder into his playfully. you whine as he wraps an arm around your neck, bringing you in closer to him with a deep laugh.

shuffling along the sidewalk, the gravitational pull between you is so natural that you don’t even realize how close you’ve gotten. his arm is a comforting weight over your shoulders, his head dipped low to brace against the wind.

“i like it when you get spontaneous on me.”

you hear but don’t see the smile in his words, gripping onto him tighter when the wind whips at you again.

his cheek turns to the left and bumps against your own, and you both chuckle at the clumsy action.

you lift your eyes from the ground and over to him, your breath catching in your throat when you realize your noses are touching.

you’re closer than you’ve ever been before, and you realize you quite like this view of jungkook. you can see all of his tiny moles decorating his face, and you get a close-up of the scar along his cheek from when he and his brother got into a fight when they were kids.

for as long as you’ve known jungkook, you would think that you’ve witnessed all sides of him. but when you notice the way he’s looking at you right now, you think you may be wrong about that.

he’s looking at you like you put the moon in the sky, and all of a sudden you’re leaning into each other further. your eyes break contact when they flick down to his lips, something you’d only ever done in what you thought was your darkest dreams. you feel like you should do more logical reasoning in this moment, but your thoughts instantly slow down when his hand tentatively rests under your jaw, tilting your chin up and tilting his head to the side.

time seems to stop, and all of a sudden his lips press against yours and all the breath gets knocked out of your chest, gripping the rough material of his jacket to stabilize your spinning head.

and even though you’re certain it’s cold enough to get hypothermia and frostbite, you find yourself feeling a warmth spread from your chest to your fingers and toes.

kissing jungkook feels so right, which feels so morally wrong. he’s your best friend, your favorite person. you’ve promised yourself to not do anything to jeopardize what you two have, and yet everything is telling you to keep going. what is happening right now?

but then he swipes his tongue along your bottom lip and you open your mouth against him, and you swear your brain short circuits when his tongue meets yours. he tastes sweet from your treats back at the bakery, pulling you in for more. you wrap your arms around his neck and hear him let out a quiet hum, a sound that makes you tighten your grip on him.

he kisses you like he has nothing to lose. like someone who’s not only ready to risk it all on a bet but someone who is doubling down.

you eventually pull away to breathe, immediately regretting doing so when you’re met with ice pelting your face. jungkook winces when he sees the way you cringe, taking his gloved hand to rest it on your skin in an effort to protect it.

when you open your eyes again, there’s a look you’ve never seen in jungkook’s big brown orbs. they have a softness to them, which you soon realize is vulnerability. he’s always so calm, cool, and collected that you almost can’t believe you’re seeing him in another state.

his lips are still wet from your kiss, proof and evidence of what you two had just done.

“oh my god,” you murmur, taking a piece of his hair and removing it from its current spot draping over his eye.

and oh my god is right, because his brown eyes are sparkling at you right now and you swear he holds the entire galaxy of stars within them.

“would you cringe if i said that i’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he asks, grinning when you fake a gag.

“me too, or whatever,” you timidly admit after a moment, warmth instantly flooding to your cheeks when his face lights up in response, wrapping both arms around you with excitement.

“you like meee,” he sings, and his voice is so loud that you know a few people are turning their heads to look at the two of you.

your cheeks continue to burn up involuntarily, the impact of his words making you feel even more flustered.

“oh my god, be quiet!” you laugh, jungkook watching with amusement when you turn around to continue the brief walk up the path to your building. nevertheless, you slip your hand into his waiting palm, giving it a soft squeeze that he reciprocates.

you both quicken your pace when you see that someone is holding the door open for you, grateful you don’t have to dig in your pockets with your numb fingers for your key into the building.

one would think that an event such as kissing your best friend would make things tense. jungkook, however, seems to be in his normal state, singing a song you’re unfamiliar with as he escorts you through the threshold of your building.

walking through your dorm, nothing feels weird. surprisingly, you feel relief, like a huge burden has been lifted off your shoulders. you don’t know if it was the hotteok, or the man currently leading you back to your room that changed your demeanor today. but you had a feeling it was the latter.

the immature part of you dreads the moment you step into your dorm and have to talk about what happened and what it means for your relationship. you know your therapist would scold you, but you can’t help but feel like your first instinct is to tame the fire that kiss brought within you.

you’ve never known jungkook to be casual with anyone. he has a big heart, with a lot of love to share. still, you know you can’t expect any more than that spur-of-the-moment kiss from him. it just wouldn’t be fair to either of you.

before you can get any further inside your head, you’re brought down to earth by a squeeze of your hand and a soft call of your name. you realize you’re now in front of your door, jungkook leaning against the wall and looking at you fondly.

you stare back at him, realizing for the first time that he was just as deeply in his own head as you were. he wears his heart on his sleeve, and you can practically feel his insecurity radiating off of him in this moment. you hate it.

you press your thumb to smooth over the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows, the action inciting a sigh to escape his mouth.

“is this the part where you tell me to go home and fuck off, pookie?” he bites his lip and quirks an eyebrow, and you can’t help the way your eyes follow his mouth’s movement. his lip rings glisten in the fluorescent lighting of the hallway, and you smile, but give another roll of your eyes as you pull out your key card to your room.

you hear him snicker quietly beside you, the soft noise fueling the feelings you’re so accustomed to with jungkook. he always has loved the way he can make your eyes roll so easily, the little shit. you would never say it out loud, but secretly, you love it too.

his question still hangs in the air between you, but you love the art of suspense. plus, the way his bottom lip is trapped under his teeth right now is so attractive you wish you could frame it.

the high-pitched beep of your door followed by the unlatching of the lock is all the permission you need to end his misery. you pull him closer to you by the bottom of his jacket, guiding him back into your room and basking in the surprise evident across his features.

in that moment, you toss all your worries out the window and realize what you want in an instant. jungkook, who never fails to make you feel included. who takes care of you when you’re ill, who drives miles for you just to get that soft serve ice cream you crave on random winter nights.

you don’t know why you’ve tiptoed around this for so long.

but when your hands settle on the base of his neck once more, and you briefly feel his breath wash over you as he dips down to meet your lips for the second time, you know you’ve made the right choice.

butterflies erupt in your stomach when his hand goes to support the back of your head, and the kiss grows from one of a tender nature into a higher intensity that makes you cling to him. your head goes dizzy and your knees grow weak, his soft lips opening against you as his fingers massage needed relaxation into your head.

swallowing each other's breaths and noises when the kiss gets heated, you’re not even phased when jungkook clumsily drops the box of hotteok on your floor.

pulling back to admire the man, you smile when you realize he’s doing the same. his eyes bounce over your features, pressing his forehead to yours as you catch your breath to finally answer his question.

“quite the opposite, actually.”

#bts fanfiction #bts imagines #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts x oc #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook imagines #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc

1K notes · View notes

btdemaru · 11 months

Text

Obey Me Brothers eating you out

(hc's/drabble?)

Note : demon tongue hc's and their demon forms r used!

Warnings : [GN!reader], eating out, monster tongue, NSFW so minors dni, alot of cum, overstimming, edging, brat taming (Lucifer), spanking (mammon), toys (asmo), bondage (satan).

Lucifer

His tongue would be long and the end would have a sharp shape (basically not dull flat)

He loves to shove his tongue while kissing you basically deep in your throat and he pulls away just to look at your sloppy drool-covered face

Lucifer will edge you if you're a brat to him but definitely reward you by making you overstimulated

Likes to tease until you BEG for him to put his tongue in or give you more friction

If you're feeling bratty or just want some rough sex just annoy the shit outta him or disobeying him (gl tho)

"You're acting like this on purpose aren't you?" He spoke while his fingers graze over your hole, licking it up but not giving you the satisfaction of putting it in. "If you want it so bad then..beg for it." If you did beg enough for him to put it in then be ready cause he's gonna be there until you can't even talk and your hole is bruised and puffy as his long thick monstrous tongue fucks your needy hole.

Mammon

I like to think that his tongue is almost similar to a human tongue but just longer with a piercing on the edge

Cause he's the avatar of Greed, dont be suprised that he's always greedy for your cum and wants to make a mess out of you

Gripping your thighs while he's working his way making you cum again and again

His tongue piercing makes it better cause it always rub and hits the spot that made you see stars

Chatty and dirty talks you while he's deep in, the vibration makes you go nuts (he does this on purpose 🤝)

Spanks you lightly for fun

"haah.. c'mon cum for me and me only~" his words slurred as his tongue is fully inside you and fingers are squishing and kneading your soft plushy cheeks "yeah? One more time, cum on me.. yours truly will make you feel good once more". He said again, pulling his tongue out just to bite your thighs before shoving back in and shoves his tongue in and out faster while stroking himself, cumming all over his thigh and pants staining it. Spanks your thigh multiple times before going again.

Leviathan

I think his tongue would be longer than Lucifer's and would be bright blue, definitely thicker aswell

He's so shy to do it but will obey your commands

If you guide him, he'd be determined to make you feel good and practice to make you scream and cry just from his tongue

Would grind on a pillow or something so the both of you feel good while moaning your name

Levi would try stucking his tongue so deep but is scared it'll hurt you even though silently he wants to so bad

"hmmff.. this- good..?" Leviathan said in between him slurping you, his long tongue drills itself into you without mercy, one hand on your chest while the other one is pumping his own cock wanting to catch his orgasm "close, I'm- ah shit.. close!" He said as he came all over the sheets trying to come back from the high orgasm while licking the edge of your hole. "Taste.. so good~" his face was tinted with slightly red looking away from you "again?"

Satan

Sharp tongue but not sharp enough to cut or hurt you

But slight rough on the edges compliments his sharp fangs aswell

Angry sex will occur now and then so yay to you if you like it rough

Will tie your legs onto the edge of the bed/sofa so that you're spread wide giving him alot of access

If he's angry about something or someone (lucifer 💀) he'd go longer until his anger is satiated

"mhh, fuck! Could you believe that fucker did that? Mhhh.." Satan yanks your thigh while he spoke before spitting onto your hole and dives in. "Be good for me and sit here for awhile yeah? I'm sure you can take at least.. two hours~" he laughs and slid his rough tongue inside, going slowly so he doesn't hurt you because no matter how mad he is at anything theres no chance he'd hurt you. "Mmmh" Satan starts to move his tongue in and out faster while his other hand is playing with you, flicking and pinching it lightly. Stops when he knows you're about to cum "not yet. be patient."

Asmodeus

I think asmo has multiple tongues (like tentacle-ish almost)

Asmo will beg you to experiment with his tongue, maybe he shoves his tongue in you while he abuses you with a vibrator or your tip/clit

Will do this for hours until he's satisfied

Uses multiple toys on you

"please let me use it!" He begged as he holds a vibrator in his hand while still in between your legs. Asmo started to turn on the vibration and slightly pushing it in your hole before licking the rim "see~? Feels good doesn't it" he took it out making you whine at the loss of action, before you could even complain he shoves his big tentacle-like tongues in you. It hurt, of course it did there were multiple of them. "Hehe~! I'm sure it doesn't hurt that bad..!"

Beelzebub

Just his tongue can make you cum multiple time ughh

His tongue has a little edge sticking out, like satan's sharp edges but they're dull and squishy

The texture is like any normal tongue but big and thick whike sort of flat and not sharp at all

He'll eat you out until he's full (which is never) or when it's in the middle of the night and he's hungry

"m'still hungry..let me eat more.." he said while you're already extremely overstimulated from cumming countless of times from his tongue, he doesn't even need to use his fingers. "Tasty...so..hungry..." Beel spoke while shaking his head sideways on your hole just to make your wetness splash everywhere, his face and his neck covered in juices and spit. He could go til the sun rises again and he would still be hungry and wanting more of you "look how red and puffy it became..mmmhh" if you tried to push his head off from your already bruised hole he'd force your legs to lock his head and shoves his tongue in again.

Belphegor

This is just what i imagine but i think his tongue would be..dry because he sleeps most of the times not getting enough water

Probably has a beige sort of color to it, and isn't really as big as his twin but enough to pleasure you

He'd insist on you sitting on his face because that way he can lay down while eating you out

Lazy smexy time? Hell yea

"press more.. i can take it" he says while trying to make you sit on his face even harder, silently he wants you to use his face like nothing but a toy for yourself and you only. He lazily shoves his tongue making you grind on it yourself in a teasing manner "if you want it so bad..then hurry" belphie smirks under you while licking and lapping your juices up.

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scoutswritingcorner · 2 months

Text

This Broken Body

Alastor x GN!Reader

A/N: Kind of a part two of ‘Shedding Season’ but with Reader

TW:Broken bones, blood and use of medical drugs

After getting off work you meet some unfortunate people who were after your boss but turned their attacks to you instead. Luckily you have a very powerful Overlord who is protective over you.

You shook your head as you limped into the Hotel trying to fight off your exhaustion and how your vision wanted to fade out. The adrenaline was wearing off faster than you wished now you could feel how you could barely put pressure on your left leg. Blinking you watched as Charlie ran over to you,her hand accidentally applying pressure on your side causing you to yelp loudly and fall backwards onto your ass. Why could you taste blood? Why was the room spinning? Why did Charlie have horns and why was Alastor there? So many questions that got left unanswered as your vision went black and you promptly passed out on the floor of the foyer.

When you woke up you were groggy and whining from the pain but you could hear light jazz play, looking around you were in your bedroom but Alastor had made his presence known with him humming along to the tune, carefully sewing your favorite jacket back up, his eyes glancing at you for a moment. “Sleep well?” He asked softly as if not to scare you but you still jumped as your groggy mind was slipping in and out of sleep. “Yeah…What happened, Al?” You slurred out internally grimacing from how you sounded.

“You passed out in the foyer, Dear. I’m wondering the same thing as Charlie, you have the poor girl in a tizzy.” He hummed out looking back at the now sewn hole in your favorite jacket. Your lucky jacket as you would call it. He ran his fingers across the familiar pattern of the little microphone you had hand sewn for him. “Got jumped after work..” You called out whimpering as you tried to move. Immediately he was by your side moving a pillow under your leg that was now in a cast and helped you get comfortable.

“Now, no need to move your leg needs to heal as well as your ribs.” He hummed out, he’ll be feasting on the ribs of those who hurt his doe to this degree. “Sorry Al...Sorry you have to see this broken and weak body.” You whimpered out tearing up. His undead heart squeezed at the sight of tears in your eyes, his clawed hands carefully wiping them away. “No, you’re not weak, Dear. You’re as strong as can be, a wolf amongst these sheep.” A tired smile graced your busted lip letting out a low chuckle.

“I won’t stop you from going after the people who jumped me, Al..but just come back to me?” At those words his heart skipped a beat and with a kiss to the head, he whispered “Always Dear~” Before he melted into the shadows to go find those poor unfortunate souls who decided to prey on you. No one messes with the Radio Demon’s Partner and gets away with it. As you were drifting to sleep thanks to the medication Charlie had thankfully gotten for you as well as some soup in your stomach, the radio that sat on your dresser turned on with a loud ear piercing screech Alastor’s voice cutting through as he welcomed everyone to a new and exciting broadcast, you tuned out of most of your beloved’s dialogue but shook back awake hearing screams of the sinners who had jumped you. Their begs falling on deaf ears as meat was ripped from bones and bones snapped easily.

And then as soon as it started the broadcast had stopped with a soft, “And to my Beloved, rest up now. I’ll be home soon.” Then soft jazz started to play. The same soft jazz that had lulled you to sleep every time he played it.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel imagine #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x gn!reader #gn reader

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cdragons · 3 months

Text

Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You

Next Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Felix is delulu, Reader is stressed and homesick and kinda crazy but she a baddie, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver will be Oliver (a creep), and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic

Author's Note: This fic is a follow-up to this post and I would like to thank grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇

“FUCK!” you yelled at the top of your lungs just before your nose slammed down on the dewy grass.

Groaning in pain before the mortification of realizing what had just happened kicked in.

You didn’t know what was worse: the fact you had a full front view of the giant’s junk or that he body-slammed you onto the ground and caused you to land on top of the painting worth 30% of your final grade.

You wanted to scream your head off. The paint had finally dried, and you could finally leave the studio at two in the morning. It was close to finals, and pretty much anyone on campus who didn’t get accepted because of their daddy’s bank account was in their dorms. You had hoped that this fact would mean that the paths were empty and, therefore, safe to transport your 30” x 40” canvas.

“SORRY!”

You shot your head up to locate the person who just apologized. Lo’ and behold, it was the same plastered, pasty cunt with a bird’s nest disaster of a haircut drunken idiot who decided it was a good idea to go streaking across campus. His only other distinguishable features were that he was at least 6’3” and that he had a small steel piece pierced on his face.

After the “apology,” he and his friend continued running off to God’s knows where in the dead of night—leaving you behind on the lawn with a bleeding nose, bruised knees and palms, and an oil painting that was torn and caked in mud three days before its deadline.

There was no way to redo it. The project was assigned at the beginning of October. It took 5 hours to set up the models with the motifs and lights, 3 hours to take pictures, and 10 hours to underdraw the preliminary sketch. You didn’t even want to think about the sheer number of sleepless nights you spent in the studio mixing colors and layering. On top of that, you also had your other finals in other courses to study for.

You had practically been living in that studio for the past month. All of the custodians and security guards knew you by name. You got first dibs every day when they refilled the vending machines. It was a true godsend when you didn’t have time to visit the dining halls. Everyone had been so kind and sweet to you. It was a warm welcome compared to the snark and snobbery you experienced from most of your classmates.

Crying from the devastation of the loss of your situation, your shaking legs carried your body and what remained of your work into the building. You knew that your professor stayed in her office late for grading. You could only hope that she would sympathize with your pitiful appearance.

“Wait, so did you get the extension?”

Lifting your head from the sticky library table at Bodleian’s, you stared at your best only friend, Michael Gavey, with a blank stare. You didn’t react to his wince after he took in your haggard appearance. You didn’t need a mirror to know that you looked terrible.

Your eyes were puffy and bloodshot red with dark mulberry bags underneath them. You had paled since coming to dreary England, but now you looked straight-up sickly. And if that wasn’t enough, your eyes had less life than a dead fish rotting at a Sunday Market.

Your voice was so meek that you were sure he had to strain to hear you.

“Yeah…I got it.”

You knew you had no choice but to beg your Studio Arts professor for an extension. But it killed you doing it. Professor Daria Martin was your favorite teacher and the only faculty member who actually liked you. Her support toward you meant everything to you; the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint her, let alone be the reason why she lost her job.

Your usually so snarky four-eyed friend perked up at the news.

“So, is everything okay?” he asked with hope.

Your head fell on neon-yellow ink-stained pages that filled the paperweight your ethics professor called a textbook. A bitter laugh fell from as your lips lifted to a wry, dry grin.

“Oof, not that simple, is it?” he asked.

“Is it ever?”

“So what do you have to do now?”

“Well-,” you lifted your head to take a deep breath as you started to explain, “- I still have the photos and copies of the sketch. But because the canvas was so large, it was special-ordered. That means I need to wait until another one can be delivered, and since all the works need to be completed in the studio, I can’t leave the campus.”

As you finished your explanation, Michael nodded his head in understanding before he paused, and a look of devastation painted his features.

“Wait, so does that mean-”

“I won’t be able to fly back home for the holidays.”

Fuck, you were about to cry again. You had been so excited to see your old friends and family. You remembered how absolutely homesick you were at the beginning of the term. Because you were a scholarship student from America, your parents encouraged you to settle on campus by moving to your dorm earlier than everyone else. It was bad enough that you missed Thanksgiving, but you had really set your heart on coming home for Christmas and New Year’s. What made it worse was that your parents had told you all about the dinner they had planned for your homecoming. It was going to be a feast of all your favorites.

English food sucked balls.

Your only saving grace was the Crunchie bars Michael got for you when you studied together or when you had to rewrite edit his essays.

You really DID cry after first reading his essay for Introductory English class at the beginning of the year.

“Did you try to report it?”

“Report what? ‘Hey, there’s a wasted asshole running naked across campus, and he body-slammed me to the ground and tore my fucking massive campus that blocked my view of the jackass. He’s probably richer than the goddamn Queen, given how he’s wasted right before finals.’”

“Do you have any description of him?”

“He’s a giant with a small eyebrow piercing, and his fat ass looked like it had never seen the sun.”

Without lifting your head, you heard the scrape of Michael’s chair before he walked across the table to sit in the chair next to you.

“Hey,” he began, bringing you into a warm arm hug, “it’ll be okay. You called your parents about it, right?”

“Yeah -” you sighed before continuing, “- they told me they understood and would Skype me daily.”

“See! Everything’s going to be – wait, did you say that this guy was tall?”

Furrowing your brow in confusion, you looked at your friend at the change in his tone from light and supportive to sharp and interrogative.

“Yeah?”

“How tall?”

“Umm,” you had to think about that, “I’d say he was about 6’3” or above? He was really fucking tall.”

“And he had an eyebrow piercing?”

Ok, now you were really confused. “Yes? Michael, where are you going with this?”

“I think the guy who ran you over was Felix Catton.”

You shot your favorite idiot with a deadpan glare.

“Felix Catton? The same Felix Catton who just so happens to be the same Felix Catton you hate?”

Michael solemnly nodded. “It’s him. It has to be. The only person on campus as tall as him is his cousin, and he doesn’t have piercings.”

“And he’s black.”

“Yeah, that too.”

You were skeptical, and it showed. You didn’t want to callously dismiss your friend, but you knew more than anyone how much his hatred for Oxford’s Golden Boy could impair his judgment. You were by no means a fan of the guy, but accusing someone of anything they didn’t do just because your friend thought so went against your principles.

He grabbed your arm and dragged you to the bookshelf in front of the table where Felix and his groupies sat. Both of your books and bags were in your chairs, but you managed to keep your spiral notebook with you. It wasn’t hard to find them – they were the loudest table in the entire library. They also reeked of cigarettes and booze.

“See?” Michael hissed. “Giant, pale, and eyebrow piercing. It’s him!”

“Michael,” you softly groaned, “just because you hate Felix Catton doesn’t mean you can –”

An extremely shrill voice interrupted you.

“I can’t believe you and Farleigh actually ran around campus naked!”

A petite girl with full pink lips and dull red hair latched on the arm of the man of the hour. “It was so hot to watch!”

This girl has weird-ass tastes in guys.

“And then how you crashed into that dunce at Ruskin! Brilliant!”

Your blood ran cold while another one of Catton’s faceless droning puppets chimed in.

“God, what an idiot! It’s their own fault, anyway. Who the fuck walks in the middle of the walk path with a fucking big canvas in front of them?”

One of the lessons hammered into your skull young was never to move before you think. That lesson had saved you ten ways from Sunday. But this was not one of those times.

You’re pretty sure that you hear Michael calling out your name as you walk away from the shelf and towards the overcrowded table. Tunnel vision took over you as you made your way to the overgrown idiot who almost cost you your entire future.

Grabbing the back of his shirt collar, you dragged the 6’5” towering fool on his ass all the way outside. You finally let go when the two of you reached the back of the building that had no windows.

“Hey, what the fu –”

You didn’t let him finish as you brought your fist to hit him square in the face – and, fuck, did you relish the crunch that immediately followed your swing.

Fuck, was his head killing him.

Felix should have known better than to have gotten cross-faded last night, but Farleigh had practically goaded him to do it. It’s not like his cousin ever had to worry about his grades for any of his courses during finals – the little shit-starter had always been so fucking academically gifted.

He skipped pretty much all of his morning classes and barely made it to his afternoon schedule on time while completely zoning out the entire time.

If he bombs on all his finals, his dad was going to absolutely murder him. But chances were he and his mum were going to be too busy entertaining whichever new friend his mum brought in for shelter.

“You alright there, champ?”

Felix swiveled his head too quickly and immediately groaned in pain. The motion made his hangover even worse. Rubbing his eyes to try to soothe the pounding in his head, he slowly opened them to look at his cousin.

The slag didn’t have the decency to look even a little bit affected from last night’s event – the fucker. No, he was sitting there with all Cheshire grins and gleaming eyes while Felix was two seconds from heaving his guts out.

“Yeah, I’m alright, mate.” He replied in a tired groan.

“Must have been quite the night. Wonder if it had anything to do with that little cocktail you took from our sweet Annabel’s belly button?”

Disgust was clear on Felix’s face as he recalled the body shot he had taken from his ex-FWB’s navel. He truly must have been off his rocker last night – he thought he was over with body shots since graduating secondary, but apparently not.

If he somehow got an STD from doing it, V was going to kill him.

But even with all of his horrible actions that caused the raging war inside his skull, that wasn’t the main cause of his misery.

Farleigh’s grin dropped as judgment painted his features.

“Oh,” he moaned, “please tell me this isn’t about ‘your angel’ from last night.”

He didn’t just take the dare of streaking across the grounds just for the hell of it. He needed an excuse to pass through the art building – all for the chance of seeing you.

You. His angel of paints and books who lived in the empty studio rooms of Oxford University’s Ruskin School of Art and whose presence harangued him every hour of every day. Everywhere Felix went, he would unconsciously look for you.

It was his soul calling out for yours – he knew it.

Felix had never felt so drawn to another human being in his entire existence. He’d never seen you outside of the libraries, art building, and maybe the dining hall if he was lucky. You never went to any parties or even had a drink at the pub at King’s Arms. He didn’t even have classes with you, but he knew Farleigh did. Word was that you and his cousin had shared a few classes – what’s more was that you were likely the only person who could go head-to-head with him in academics.

And to make it worse, the prat refused to tell him anything about you – not even your fucking name.

“Believe me,” he told him after Felix had been begging his cousin for hours to share anything about you, “she is way above your league.”

Which really hurt his feelings, by the way – sure, you were probably way above in book smarts, but there wasn’t a girl that remained indifferent to his charms after a good talking fucking.

“I still can’t believe you won’t at least tell me her name,” Felix complained once more, “or even just give me her number!”

“She’s an American here on scholarship and a bore,” he quipped back, “what’s there to tell? And can you please shut up? I want to get some reading done before tonight. You do remember the in-class essay we have tomorrow, right?”

Bloody hell, he did not. Pushing down the bitter feeling in his chest, he and his cousin made their way to meet everyone at the back. As soon as he sat down, Annabel clung on to his arm. Thank fuck he had been wearing one of his thicker jumpers – otherwise, her claws that she called nails would have ripped open the fabric.

“Hey, Felix!” she made sure to offer a very generous sight of her cleavage, “are you ready for tonight?”

Felix chuckled lowly before responding. “Aren’t I always?”

And just like that – he completely zoned out the rest of the conversation.

Annabel was probably saying something to get him to notice her, and Farleigh was likely responding so he wouldn’t have to – but Felix couldn’t be bothered to pretend to care.

He was lost in the living daydream that was his angel that haunted the art studios of Ruskin School of Art.

He was desperate to learn everything about you.

If he asked you to talk about your favorite books, would your eyes sparkle in delight, or would your smile widen in glee?

If he grabbed your hand, would your palms feel marred by his rough skin, or would you press your callouses to his?

If he pressed his mouth on yours, would your lips feel as soft and plump as they look? Or was their luster forever damaged by your teeth biting them whenever you were in deep concentration?

If he breathed in your scent at the crook of your neck, would your skin smell like the paints forever on your brushes or the musky pages of heavy ancient books you always carried in your arms?

If he planted kisses from your throat to your breasts, would you mewl in pleasure or whimper in anticipation?

If he touched your cunt, would you arch your back in ecstasy? Or would your legs crumble, and you would have no choice but to sink into his arms?

Felix’s thoughts were rudely interrupted when Farleigh jammed his bony elbow into his ribcage and hurriedly whispered.

“Look alive, Golden Boy.”

Looking forward, it was better than any of his wet dreams combined. It was you.

Your hair was loose, and your fists were clenched. You reminded him of a ferocious lion goddess with how focused your gaze was on him.

But before Felix would prepare himself to make a good impression, you walked behind him and grabbed the back of his shirt collar before fucking dragging his ass out of his seat and outside.

Bloody hell, for someone so much shorter than him, you were fucking strong.

When you finally released your grip, he fell on the ground like an idiot before he tried to stand and steady himself as quickly as he could.

“Hey, what the fu –”

You didn’t let him finish as you brought your fist to hit him square in the face – and, fuck, you might have actually broken his nose.

After staggering back, you started using the spiral notebook in your other hand to land blow after painful blow on his body.

“YOU. STUPID. FUCKING. INGRATE –” Each word that left your mouth was emphasized with another hit from your notebook “– I. HATE. YOU. YOU. RUINED. MY. PAINTING. I. SPENT. SO. MUCH. TIME. ON. IT. AND. NOW. I. CAN’T. GO. HOME. FOR. BREAK. BECAUSE. OF. YOUR. STUPID. SELF!”

Felix was confident you had more to say, but you were pulled off him by your friend – he’s pretty sure it’s Mitchell – by the waist with you kicking and screaming out profanities to him as your friend called out your name to try to calm you down.

He wondered what it said about him if he told anyone how much you looked like an angry cat. His parents would send him to a shrink if he told them how adorable he found you right now.

If you were this wild while fighting, he could only imagine how riled up you would get in bed.

Fuck, you might have just unlocked a new kink in him.

Catching his breath as he watched your friend drag you away into the distance, he heard a slow clap to his left.

Farleigh was leaning on the corner – his smug expression making it clear that he had seen the whole thing – as he looked at his cousin with a bemused expression before walking toward him and giving a sympathetic pat on his back.

“Well,” he started to break the tension, “at least you know her name.”

“Yeah,” Felix agreed, “I know her name.”

And he knew that you smelled more like the paints on your brushes than the books you carried with subtle notes of gardenias.

Tagging: @aemondsbabe, @ethereal-athalia, @aphroditesmoon, @barbiedragon, @valeskafics, @lexyysworld, @punkiwiki, @saltburnedme, @arcielee

Let me know if you want to be tagged for future Saltburn fics!

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie #michael gavey x reader

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bunnylovesani · 1 month

Text

You Belong To Me

Summary: You find out about your husband Spencer’s affair with another woman. It's safe to say you don’t have the reaction either of them were expecting.

Content warnings: infidelity, voyeurism, facetime sex, humiliation, p in v sex, creampie

WC: 2.3k

“Who is she?” You shudder with disgust as you stare into the sunken eyes of your husband. He looked almost unrecognisable to you now that you’d learned of his betrayal.

“Her name’s Maeve. She’s a geneticist who’s been helping me with those headaches.” He sighs resolutely, knowing there was no point attempting to hide this from you. He didn’t mean to let things escalate but you’d been going through a rough patch and Maeve was just so understanding- she embodied all the things you lacked.

“Did you fuck her?” Your voice trembled with anger, goosebumps piercing through your thin blouse as you braced yourself for his response.

“No. It was a purely emotional affair.” He stated a little too coldly.

“Ah. And I suppose that makes it alright, does it?” You scoffed, getting up from the sofa you were curled up on with Spencer mere minutes earlier before he came out with his crushing confession.

“Of course not. There are no excuses.” He looked down, not daring to meet your appalled gaze. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

“Spencer Reid speechless? I never thought I’d see the day.” You chuckle darkly, fidgeting with your wedding band. You loved him with all your heart, the day you said your vows was the happiest of your life- now that he’d broken his, you weren’t sure how much any of it really meant.

“Were you going to leave me for her?” Against your best efforts, your voice broke with a pitiful crack that left Spencer with a pained expression on his handsome face.

“No! No, I promise. I would never leave you.” He interjected, leaving no room for doubt. “She was just a distraction. You’re it for me.”

You sunk back into the plushy couch with a defeated sigh, unwelcome tears pricking your glossy eyes.

“I don’t know, Spence…” You sniffled, beginning to slide the ring off your finger.

“Baby.” He took your hands into his own as he dropped to his knees before you, still in his work suit. “I messed up. I messed up in the worst way possible. I’m a fucking idiot. But if you forgive me, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please, my love. I’ll do anything.”

An unfamiliar desperation tinged his voice that made your gut twist into an iron knot. He looked pathetic right now; kneeling on the floor with furrowed eyebrows as he pleaded to save his marriage.

“I want you to call her.” You exhaled sharply after an excruciating moment of contemplation.

“You- what?” His forehead wrinkles deepened with shock.

“You heard me. Call the bitch.” He gulped at your request and his eyes darted around frantically as he analysed every possible outcome.

“A video call. I want to see what the little homewrecker looks like.” You spat as he remained motionless, mouth agape and eyes narrowed. “Unless you’d rather get a divorce?”

“I’ll do it.” He shook his head clumsily, rattled by the whole ordeal.

“Wonderful. Come sit next to me and prop your phone up on the table.” You patted the spot besides you as Spencer stumbled over, still confused by your unpredictability.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Start dialling.” You snapped snarkily as he scrolled through his phone with shaky hands. Locating her contact, his fingers hovered above the call button.

“Dr. Donovan, huh?” You peered over. “The one you told me had been helping you with a case?”

“Y-yeah.” He whispered ashamedly.

“Now this I have to see.” You murmured bitterly as the line began to ring.

“Spence, hi! Wasn’t expecting you to call at this time.” The bubbly voice of the other woman rang out through his speakers. Your eyes zeroed in on the pixelated image of a brunette woman with a choppy fringe.

“Why, do you guys have a set time for your little calls? When I’m sleeping, perhaps?” You popped into the frame, grinning wildly.

“Oh. H-hello. Spencer, what’s going on?” She looked to him for help but he just sat there resignedly, knowing he couldn't appease you both.

“So you’re the one who’s been helping herself to my husband.” You chuckled disingenously. “I thought you’d be a lot prettier.” You neared the phone to get a better look. “Really, baby? Her?”

Spencer looked away, not daring to say a word to his wife or his lover.

“And you? You don’t have anything to say?” You opened the floor to Maeve.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her cheeks reddened as she stuttered, her nauseating voice ricocheting off the walls and worming its way into your ears.

“That’s okay. I don’t need you to talk. Just watch.” You hissed in such a searing way that it made her feel threatened and inclined to obey.

Spencer looked up at you in confusion but his doubts were swiftly answered when you loosened his tie and ripped off his collared shirt with a murderous lust.

“Baby, what-“

“You’re not going to say a word.” You smoothly replied, voice barely audible.

You observed his sad eyes, entrenched with light crows feet that worsened with the weight of stress and regret. You weren’t sure how you were even going to begin to process his betrayal but right now, you had to take care of her first. What better way to drive home the point that he was yours than to show her?

Unbuckling his heavy leather belt with an urgency you’d never felt, you glanced over to make sure Maeve was watching. Sure enough, the demure woman couldn’t peel her eyes away from the sight unfolding before her.

As you pulled down his pleated black trousers, you unbuttoned your blouse and pulled down your skirt, throwing the articles of clothing behind you in a rushed hurl. Trailing your fingers down his boxers with your engagement ring flashing in front of the camera, you settled on his waistband.

“Now, Spence. You’re going to fuck me in front of her.”

His breath hitched as the unholy words left your smirking mouth.

“And you-” You turned to face Maeve, who’s hand engulfed her mouth in panic. “You are going to watch it all.“

“No! You’re insane-“

“Or I’ll tell everyone at your work that you’re a home wrecking whore.” You dropped the threat like a hammer and it instantly silenced her.

“That’s what I thought.”

A twisted grin consumed your face as you looked back at Spencer, who licked his lips at the sight before him- his wife eagerly spread open on the couch, waiting to be filled up. You weren’t sure whether it was an anxious tick or a sign of arousal and frankly, you didn’t care.

“Show me how sorry you are.” You breathed heavily as you hooked your black lace panties and pulled them to the side.

Needing no further initiative, Spencer lowered his boxers and let his heavy cock spring free from its confines. Despite sex being the last thing on his mind, he couldn’t help the natural reaction his body had to you- it didn’t matter how many times he’d seen it in the last 5 years of your marriage, the sight of you split open for him was always enough to bring him crumbling to his knees.

Shuffling closer, he let a long string of spit dribble down to your pussy before smearing it around with his painfully swollen tip. He was in a state of delirium and shock as his body moved as though it weren't his own- whatever the consequences, he knew he couldn't lose you.

“You see that, Maeve?” You cocked your head to the side. “That’s all mine.”

You moaned shakily as he pushed himself in, coating his shaft in your wetness.

“Isn’t that right, baby? Tell her.” You ordered your husband as he grabbed the back of your thigh, pushing against it to go even deeper.

“That’s right.” He groaned as he plunged his cock in as deep as it could go, his skin flush against yours.

“Who do you belong to?” You gazed up at him, running your fingers through his messy curls.

“You, baby. I belong to you.” He whispers before turning to face the camera. “I belong to her. She owns me.”

Maeve let out a short huff of disbelief, wanting to look away but struggling.

“Harder.” You choked out a whisper as your body trembled under his touch, longing for more, aching to possess and to be possessed.

His thrusts sped up in response, his hips smacking against yours fervently as you clawed at his back like a wounded animal.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whined as he took you by the face with both hands, forcing you to look clearly at him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Keep going.” You whispered frantically- the feeling of being perfectly stuffed paired with your volatile emotional state left you teetering on the edge of collapse.

“She means nothing to me.” He grunted between thrusts and you bore a wide toothy grin at the capriciously sweet words. Real or not, you knew they had to hurt her- and that brought you a sadistic amount of pleasure.

“What were you thinking going for her?” You tutted as he pounded into you like it was the last time, creamy arousal glistening in the dimly lit lounge. “I’m so much better than her. She’s so ugly. Isn’t she, Spence?”

“Y-yes.” He whimpered. “She’s nowhere near as beautiful as you.”

Satisfied enough with his taunting, you pushed him back with a bitter hand against his chest and climbed onto his lap with increasing desperation.

“Bet you wish you could ride him like this, don’t you?” You sneered as you stroked his wet cock with a couple squelchy pumps. “But you never will. This dick is all mine.”

You lowered yourself onto him, adjusting to his size with breathy moans as he threw his head back in deluge. Bouncing on it with more force than usual, you looked back to observe Maeve’s horrified face glowing on the screen.

“You got that, bitch?” You jeered mockingly as you reached for his phone and flipped the camera to show Spencer’s exasperated face. “My husband, my dick.”

With your final act of aggression, you hung up the call and threw the phone behind you. You were fairly confident she wouldn’t be inserting herself into your marriage again any time soon.

“What the hell-” Spencer’s croaky voice rang out in intervals as you continued riding him with stomach-churning speed. “was that?”

“I was reminding you who you’re married to.” You halted for a moment to catch your breath. “You seem to have forgotten.”

His firm, calloused hands snaked their way around your hips as he dug his fingernails into your flesh, bringing you closer to him.

“I'll never make that mistake again.” He declared solemnly, brushing the pad of his thumb against your cheek. “Do you forgive me, my love?”

Your limbs went numb and you felt paralysed at the thought. How could you ever forgive such an abuse of trust?

Spencer firmly grabbed you by the jaw before trailing his hand to the nape of your neck. You wanted to wriggle out of his grasp but he guided your head to rest over his shoulder as he settled his touch on the small of your back.

“I don’t know…” You slumped into him, feeling immobilised as you murmured mindlessly.

He suddenly grabbed your ass and roughly spread it apart to allow easier access to your core- he thrust up into your weeping pussy with a force that had you huffing out wordless squeaks. He set a ruthless tempo, hammering into you as your gushing arousal dripped down his thighs.

“If I’m going to let that little stunt you just pulled slide-“ He growled with a renewed ferocity. “then you’re going to suck it up and forgive me too.”

Whining, you smacked the side of his bicep in protest but the way he was fucking your brains out left you unable to speak.

“I don’t wanna hear it baby.” He kissed your temple sloppily as he patted your hair, smoothing it down while he massaged your insides. “You’re meant for me and I’m meant for you. We’re perfectly fucked up for each other.”

“Mmph-“ You moaned into his shoulder, drool dribbling down his skin as you bit into it.

“I’m never letting you go.” He sped up as his force and aggression grew, leaving bruises in the shape of fingertips littered along your hips and ass.

With one final thrust, you came undone - squeezing his cock so tight in the process that he couldn’t help but fill you up to the brim with his cum. You panted as you tried to catch your breath, creamy wetness pouring out of you as he pulled your sweaty bodies apart.

“Okay.” You sighed. “I forgive you.”

Spencer abruptly sat up as the precious words spilled from your swollen lips. “You mean it?” He trembled hopefully, melting expression tugging at your heartstrings.

“Only if you swear to me it’ll never happen again.” You wagged your finger at him as he leapt onto you unexpectedly.

“Never! Never, baby, I swear.” He planted grateful kisses up and down your body as you indulged in a reluctant smile. “It’s only you. You are the only one for me. Now and for the rest of my life.”

You could tell by his adoring gaze that he meant every word. Wrapping your arms around him, you settled into a healing embrace. He was allowed to make one mistake, you loved him enough to let it slide. And if resentment ever crept up on you, you could always fondly recall that drunken night with Agent Morgan. Who said married couples weren’t allowed a few secrets?

#spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid angst #criminal minds smut #matthew grey gubler #matthew gray gubler fanfic #spencer reid fan fiction

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cultrise · 7 months

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HATE FUCKING. PROWLER!HOBIE

⚝ CONTENTS NSFW, rough sex (consensual), reader gets manhandled, a little dumbification, degradation, hobie has a frenum & a lorum piercing ᵎᵎ wc 2.5k

ᵎᵎ check the mlist for kinktober here !

24 days, 18 hours and 4 minutes have passed since you and your now ex-boyfriend, hobie brown, have broken up.

life being hobie’s girlfriend wasn’t always pink. he didn’t like to open up that much, you often felt like he kept secrets and he always ignored any problems that arose in the relationship. and even though you loved each other, even though the relationship was great overall and the sex was amazing, the last straw was finding out that hobie was none other than the vigilante ‘the prowler’, which was hunted down heavily by police.

it all happened when you came across a box of interesting gadgets and designs, detailed schematics and tools to use for building them. now sure, you had some suspicions for a while about what hobie’s actual job entailed but hearing it out of his mouth was like getting stabbed. it wasn’t necessarily the information that he was indeed the prowler that gutted you, but more-so the absolute audacity of this man to put his life at risk and lie to you about it.

it all ended up becoming a huge fight that lasted for hours, time in which you insulted each other to the bone, yelled until your lungs gave out and threw everything you could get your hands on at each other. you were devastated. sure, your relationship might not have been perfect, but how did hobie expect for you to trust him if he couldn’t trust you with a part of his own identity? the summary of the fight resulted into you two breaking up in an ugly way and having the worst meltdowns possible because of it.

now, after so many days, you had finally tricked yourself into believing the outcome was for the best. you had stashed every item that had ever belonged to hobie into a box and placed it into the corner of your closet, saying you’ll throw it out when you get the time. obviously, that never happened, as you always found new excuses not to. you were sure you hated hobie.

and in retrospect, hating him was better than acknowledging how badly still loving him hurt. you dreaded the nighttime because you knew the moment you cuddled up in bed you were met with memories and dreams of him that would just not leave you be. even his pillow had lost all scent of him.

you entered your apartment with a sigh, tossing your keys on the couch. it had been a long day, with a long shift at work and even though your stomach was rumbling and your house was a mess, the only thing on your mind was slipping out of those clothes and get into bed. as you removed your jacket you heard the sound of footsteps against the floor. you looked around, panicked. no.. must’ve been coming from outside? until, you hear it again.

you quickly grab a knife from the kitchen, holding it in a trembling hand as you make your way to the source of the sound: your bedroom. as you step in you see a tall, shadowy figure going through your closet and you raise your hand, to strike. with a sudden shift you feel a hand go to your wrist, a tight grip making you drop the knife to the floor. you were about to scream before one large hand dropped over you mouth and you felt the familiar scent of cigarettes hit your nostrils.

“what the fuck, woman? are ya’ insane?” hobie half-yells as he takes a step back, letting you take the information in. he was there. in front of you. in your room. he looked,, awful. “what the fuck are you doing in my house?” you say between grit teeth as his face softens and he sighs “i uh.. came t’.. get my stuff” his eyes trail to the prowler mask that lay on your desk.

“you could’ve called. i thought i was getting robbed!” you cross your arms as his eyebrows furrow “i did. y’blocked my fucking phone number!” oh yeah. you did do that. oops. you play with your fingers anxiously “right..” hobie says with a big breath as he turns around to the closet “okay, maybe stop going through my stuff?” you place a hand on his shoulder, pulling him away. hobie watches you with wide, confused eyes.

“i wasn’t? i’m lookin’ for my stuff because i know this is whe’e you keep your shit! stop making a fuss out of anythin’ “ he groans as he turns again “oh, i’m making a fuss?” “oh great, there we go” hobie scoffs as you grab him by his jacket “you listen to me. you don’t get to come to my house uninvited and start bitching. now move over so i can give you your shit and leave. i’m sick of you” you push him to the side with a hiss, starting to look for his box of things.

hobie rolls his eyes, trying not to let his demeanour drop. he didn’t come over with the thought of getting back together, even if it was permanently on his mind. but hearing you treat him like that.. it hurt. he sat himself down on your chair, propping his legs up on the desk as he waited.

after a short amount of time you pull the box out, placing it on the table with a loud bang “there. it’s all in here” hobie gets up and starts going through it with pursed lips “is this?…” he asks wide-eyes as he takes out a studded bracelet with your initials on it, his first ever gift to you “yeah.. it is.. i have no use for it anymore so feel free to give it to someone else” you cross your arms, not meeting his stare.

hobie did not consider himself a sensitive person at all. yet in that moment it was as if glass shattered into his toracic cavity and pierced through his every muscle “give.. give it to someone else?” he scoffs in disbelief “i gave this to you” he says as he holds a hand out, trying to see if you’re going to take it or not. you shake your head after a few moments of hesitation “no. i dont need it. and in case you havent realised it yet, i hate you. so please, be on your way” you gesture to the door.

this time, hobie is overcome by rage “say tha’ again?” your eyes finally meet his, watching them get darker “what? that i hate you?” you almost feel hobie’s patience snap in half “you hate me now, d’you?” he spits out. you, however, hold your ground “yeah. i do. i think i made myself pretty clear” a hand flies to your wrist once again, pulling you closer “i think you need to stop lying to y’self”

you try to pull yourself away from his grip “hobie! let go!” the man just towers over you, his presence now more intimidating than ever “no. i am sick and tired of this bullshit. you hate me tha’ much? then why haven’t y’thrown this shi’ away?” he points to the box of things, making you bite down on ur lip “you want t’play that game? fine. y’re nothing but a liar” he hisses as you turn to him, in shock “i’m the liar?! me?! after all of the years you have lied to me about being the prowler?!”

hobie lets out a low chuckle as he moves away from you “you still hung up on that, huh?” “still hung… hobie, the main reason of our breakup was the fact that you lied to me! you led me to not be able to trust you, do you even hear yourself?!” hobie’s hand grips at the table, the veins on his arms pulsating. “i did that to fucking protect you! y’think i liked leaving secretly every night to patrol the streets just so i make sure y’re safe?! no! but i did it anyway. fuck…”

you blink at him in bewilderment. your lips part, but no sound comes out of your mouth as your neck goes dry “you want to say y’hate me? fine. go right ahead. i can lie like tha’ too” you had never seen him so angry before. your hands tremble as you try to reach for him, not because you’re afraid, but because you don’t know what to say. “hobie..” you choke out his name.

you don’t even realise when hobie takes ahold of you, pushing you to a wall and kissing you like he’s starved, attacking your lips and biting them every chance he gets. you don’t take long to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in even more as your teeth clash together. his hands roam your body, fingers finding their way to the zipper of your jeans before he pulls them off. you break off the kiss, lips parted and face flushed with need as you follow suit and take off your top and unclasp your bra.

hobie watches you as you do so before scoffing “hate me but are quick t’get undressed the moment i get handsy? fuck, this is such a joke” he grunts before picking you up with ease and throwing you on the bed, flipping you on your stomach and climbing on top. you’re so wet. you shouldn’t be this wet. anyone else would be absolutely terrified with the way hobie was acting. yet you knew him too well, you knew his frustration came from missing you so much, from you telling him that you hate him when you clearly didn’t.

his hands grab at your hips as your face gets pushed down into the mattress and you moan the second you feel his bulge press against your clothed pussy “hate me, yeah? you��re nothing but a needy slut, lookin’ fo’ attention” his hands travel to your breasts, pinching at your nipples. your body shudders at the feeling “p..please, hobie– “ “please? please what?” “i need you” “do ya’?” a low chuckle “ain’t that funny”

he moves one of his hands to you panties as he slowly drags them down to reveal the mess underneath. your arousal drips down your thigh “fuck me, y’re so fucking dirty. a dirty liar, that’s what y’are” hobie growls before inserting two fingers into your cunt. you grip at the sheets, a long moan dropping from your lips as you raise your ass up even more so he can go deeper. unfortunately for you, that doesn’t happen, as hobie’s fingers suddenly leave your pussy and he watches as your hole clenches around nothing, in desperation “she wants me so bad, doesn’t she?” he purrs as you whine.

with a tug at your shoulders he lifts your upped body up, making you turn around to face him “clean this shit off” he gestures before you obediently suck on his slicked fingers, looking up at him. hobie lets out a sharp breath as his dick strains against the fabric of his boxers “you hate me?” he asks when you’re done, before grabbing your jaw and pulling you closer “nah.. i hate you” and he turns you around, pushing your head back into the mattress as he slips his pants off.

soon enough he slams into you, fingernails digging into your hips as you moan in the fabric of your sheets “hob.. hobie.. ahh.. oh god!” you scream as you try to adjust to his size. it had been a long time since you had fucked him and taking him all at once was a bit hard to do. but you were so aroused you couldn’t think straight, you wanted him to fuck you so bad it quite literally hurt “strugglin’ t’ take all of me in? missed this cock, did you, you slut? fuck.. i hate you” he mumbles as he goes faster, his lips stuttering at every stroke.

you soon become to fucked out to even think as hobie’s tip pressed against you g-spot just right. you move a hand between your legs, pressing two fingers to your clit as you try to get off, moaning into the sheets “look at you, tryin’ t’get off like a little slut. wann’cum that bad?” you whine as your digits drag over your puffy clit, your insides being absolutely destroyed with hobie’s pace and the way his piercing’s rubbed against your gummy walls.

“it’s too much, hobie… please” you manage to get out as he lets out a low chuckle “you’re begin’ me now? y’can take it” and you realise he’s right, that it would’ve been so much more painful for him to pull out at that moment and leave you there, hot and bothered, unable to pleasure yourself the way he did. and you knew the reason that hobie didn’t pull a stunt like that was because he was close, maintaining his pace as he starts to fuck up his words.

“such a.. f..fuck… such a dirty whore.. i hate you.. mhm.. i hate you so much” he groans as he throws his head back, adam’s apple bobbing up and down “say you hate me” hobie says as he slaps your ass, the sharp sting making you whine “i… i hate you” another slap “say it properly” “i ha… oh god, hobie!” you scream as you feel yourself come closer to orgasming. another slap “properly” tears stream down your eyes as, with a final rub to your clit you cum all over his cock, ruining your sheets.

hobie looks down at you as you drop limp on the bed, panting and too fucked out to utter proper words. he watches as your mouth opens but no words come out and he smirks “pathetic, ain’t ya’?” you bite your lip as you close your eyes, the words finally escaping your swollen lips “i love you” and hobie’s eyes widen, his pupils dilate and his heart thumps against his chest. you raise yourself, propping your upper body on your palms as you push your ass back, fucking yourself into his cock. the action catches him off guard, making him let out a guttural grunt of pleasure.

“want you to cum in me” you look back at him, begging him to keep fucking you. it doesn’t take long for hobie to comply to your demands, this time, staying silent. you try not to think of the nature of his silence and the reasons for it as his hips snap into yours. his strokes quickly become uneven and hobie parts his lips, staggered breaths coming out from between them.

“shit..” hobie moans as he grips your hips again, body shuddering all over as he shoots his cum inside of you, watching it drip from your pussy as he pulls out. you turn your whole body around, your back pressed against the bed as you caress his cheek with one hand. his eyes close slowly while you caress his cheekbone “i’m sorry” you whisper as his eyes open again, deep dark eyes staring into yours. and suddenly, his whole expression goes all soft, eyes closing again “so am i”

“i love you, hobie” you repeat your former affirmation as he caresses your waist and pulls a blanket on top of you. his lips find their way to your forehead, applying three gentle kisses “i love you too”

#✦— kinktober.#𐙚 — pages.#𐙚— dreamscape.#hobie #hobie brown #atsv #across the spiderverse #spider punk #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown smut #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader smut #prowler!hobie #prowler hobie #prowler!hobie x reader #prowler hobie x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober '23

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babygirlhouse · 27 days

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house md 2024 headcanons 🫡

hi loves!! jumping on this trend :^) i don't think any of these make sense but they made me laugh soooo here u go

House has a very bad pain day and (when pushed) says that he strained the muscle while riding his bike. Obviously nobody believes him, so the ducklings + Wilson spend the day trying to figure out what he did and end up finding security footage of him attempting to hit the griddy in the morgue

Kutner has a very generic inspirational quotes tumblr blog (he’s so proud of it) and House finds it and just starts dropping quotes from it in DDXs to mess with him & then acting all innocent

Thirteen has a secret thirst trap tiktok acc that doesn’t explicitly show her face but has her lab coat & maybe stethoscope. When Chase suggests that it’s her she doesn’t confirm or deny it and just keeps winking. Cameron definitely follows the account after this. Thirteen pretends not to realise.

Wilson takes a uquiz to find out what sort of cheese he is and is devastated when it says he’s cheddar. He then has an identity crisis because he thinks he’s too bland and tries to reinvent his aesthetic, leading to one infected eyebrow piercing and a tramp stamp that’s never mentioned again. Potential there for a sappy scene where House tells him he's anything but bland.

Cuddy starts a momblog style podcast. House sends anonymous hate. Taub guest stars.

I think Taub would get deeply into ASMR. Like it’d start with him finding and playing a video of ASMR triggers for his daughters, then he tries it himself to see if that calms them down even more, etc etc. He starts a youtube channel and it blows up. He gets recognised by patients at the hospital. It goes to his head just a little. He unironically uses the term 'ASMRtist'

A cosplayer has a mysterious illness and the team has to go to a convention to test for environmental factors. Chase is apprehensive but House forces him to go. He’s quickly recognised at the convention and it turns out that he has a cosplay instagram account and they get stopped every 10 mins to take pictures. No one lets him live it down

Thirteen and Cameron kiss & fall in love & babysit Taub's kids. House makes relentless jokes but is quietly very fond of them and their relationship. Pls i need this

Foreman has a twitter/X account where he posts a combination of work out tips/inspirational quotes (not as sweet as Kutner's blog, more grindset vibes yknow) but he gets mixed up in a pyramid scheme for protein powders and gets cancelled. Also potential for a sappy scene here where Foreman says he admires Kutner for not letting House's teasing about his blog get to him. They're besties now and make each other better.

Cuddy forces all of them to go on a wellness retreat. House and Wilson make a bet to see who can go the longest without speaking. It's not even a silent retreat, they're just like that. Also someone convinces Chase that the utility shed on the retreat is haunted.

The wellness retreat no speaking bet also def has potential for gay chicken. Like Wilson kisses House to see if that will get him to lose the bet. By the next morning neither of them know or care who lost the bet, they leave their room looking Extremely disheveled and return to the hospital very much together. Cuddy is not at all surprised. She planned this. Each of the ducklings hand her $100.

PPTH minecraft server. yeah

#im so tired #i have an assessment due in 6 days #time to speed read all of inferno #house md #gregory house #headcanon #hatecrimes md #house md headcanons #hilson #mouse bites #james wilson

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lexluvsmegs · 13 days

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Bet you could do better…

[Choso Kamo x fem!reader]

Synopsis ౨ৎ - After a recent break up, you search for comfort in the form of your long term best friend Choso. But what happens when he finds out the reason you weren’t all that into your ex is because he couldn’t make you finish?

Warnings ౨ৎ - smut ⭒ oral (f receiving) ⭒ Choso is basically so in love with you ⭒ dry humping ⭒ Choso cums untouched ⭒ a lil bit of fingering

Word count ౨ৎ - 1583

(18+ please if you’re a minor do not interact!)

—————————————————————————

You weren’t upset, per se, however you did find yourself fed up with the lack of manors in which men possess. You’re sat on your sofa, glass of wine in hand and your handsome friend to your left. You had known Choso for quite some time now. He was extremely shy in the earlier stages of your friendship: flushing at any physical contact, stuttering over his words when you asked any questions, his voice ever so breathless during late night calls… But he had grown since then - well, except for the last point - and found himself to be more comfortable and open in your presence. You could even call him your best friend.

So who better to call than said best friend when you’re down in the dumps over your most recent break up. You had always been open with Choso with almost every aspect of your life. Except one. You see, ever since you met Choso you’ve harboured a small crush on the man. Can you really blame yourself? However, you made a promise that you wouldn’t do anything to ruin the beautiful bond created between the two of you. So that was that.

You decided to invite Choso round for a drink. Of course Choso was down, and so here he is now, sat on your sofa nursing a beer in one hand and fiddling the string of his sweatpants with the other. He wasn’t wearing anything extravagant, but the compression shirt he was sporting did little to hide his mouth watering muscles. You’re surprised you didn’t jump his dick when he walked in. You had some serious self restraint.

Choso makes a humming noise, breaking the silence, as he turns to you, asking if you want a refill of your wine. You shake your impure thoughts and gladly accept, scooting closer to his figure feeling the warmth radiate off of him. “So.. how you feeling?” He asks apprehensively. You appreciate his concern but aren’t too sure you want to remember the man who you foolishly went out with. “Fine. Don’t even know why I gave him a chance” you laugh slightly, feeling the ever so familiar tipsy side effects of your drink. Choso stared at you, almost in a trance, as if he was deep in thought. He gives you a look you can’t quite decipher. “Why do you say that? I thought you found him attractive?” You take another sip then turn to face him. “He couldn’t satisfy me” it was blunt. Blunt enough to cause a deep red to coat the tips of Choso’s pierced ears at the sexual implication.

He clears his throat. Was that too much? But before your thoughts can spiral, he takes a quick glance down to your lips before returning his gaze to your own and replies “oh yeah? In what way?” His voice was low and shaky, unsure of the words coming from his mouth. The eye contact you’re both holding is intense, it causes you to subtly rub your legs together for any sort of relief. “Uh, he couldn’t make me finish” you finally choke out after the initial shock of his boldness wore off. The tension was thick. You knew he could feel it too as you saw him subtly shift his free hand to hide his crotch. Oh. You swallowed thickly. Could Choso really see you that way? You can only hope. You drag your sight away from his lap and back to meet his own, already staring at you like you were the only person to ever exist. Choso always looked at you like you were fine art, but this time it felt slightly different.

You don’t know what came over you. You were trying to fill the silence you swear but the alcohol really messed you up when you blurted out “I bet you could make me finish” it was a whisper but still loud enough for Choso to hear every word. Fuck, you’ve definitely taken it too far now. You open your mouth to apologise, but Choso cuts you off with a short“Please.”You didn’t have to wonder what he was begging for for long as he soon follows up with “Please, let me make you finish.” He looks so pathetic pleading like this and it makes you so unbelievably wet. You don’t offer a reply as you place your drink down and grab his face, pulling him down to meet you in a desperate kiss. He follows suit in hastily planting his drink down on the nearest surface and grabs your hips returning the same heat to the kiss. You open your mouth granting him access as he slips his tongue inside, tasting the bitter wine left behind.

You’re getting handsy, throwing a leg over to straddle Choso, hands moving to grip his hair as he lets out an angelic whine. God, you can’t get enough of this man. He starts bucking his hips up as you feel the outline of his cock rutting against your clothed cunt. You soon break apart from the kiss both parties moaning at the stimulation. “Fuck, you’re so pretty. Wanted this for so long. Y’dont know how many nights I’ve fantasised about this very moment” it comes out rushed, but fuck, that turned you on even more. Choso got off to you. Pride swells in your chest at the realisation and you decide to reward him by licking and sucking your way down his neck, making sure to focus on the one spot that caught his breath.

“P-please take this off, wanna see those pretty tits” who knew Choso had such a dirty mouth. You follow his request, bringing the top above your head and shimmying out of your shorts. He’s in awe, basically drooling at the sight of your plush breasts. You giggle at his reaction. “Now you’ve gotta take stuff off. Only fair” you tease his already flustered self as he scrambles to get fully undressed. He’s beautiful. Sculpted by the gods. His abs are so defined, making you want to ride them, and his pecs are big enough to bite. Now the only thing separating your wet cunt from his throbbing cock is the thin fabric of your panties. Your wetness is seeping through causing a slick sound to form as you grind down on his now bare dick.

Choso fumbles to remove your bra and watches as your tits fall free from the restraint. He wastes no time in taking one of your nipples into his mouth sucking at it as if he expects milk to pour out. This has you moaning and squirming as you drag your nails down his chest causing marks to form. He soon removes his mouth and replaces it with his fingers to keep the stimulation as he pants a “can I eat you out?” the pleasure has you speechless as you can only manage a nod at his request. He lays you down on your back, your limbs splayed lazily over the span of the couch. You’re impatiently awaiting Choso’s next move as he watches over you, he finally removes your panties and stares in awe at the view in front of him. “You are so beautiful” his words make you flush. “J-just hurry up” you reply, slightly embarrassed at your exposure. He lays down, coming face to face with your glistening cunt as he continues to mumble about how lucky he is and how pretty you are. When he finally takes an experimental lick you both let out desperate moans. “God, you taste so good. So sweet f’me” he spreads you open with both hands and takes your clit between his lips, sloppily lapping at your pussy causing you to clamp your legs around his head. Fuck, does he eat pussy like a champ. He’s got you squirming from the intense pleasure, his tongue teasing your entrance before going back towards your clit.

Choso can’t control himself, the sight before him is too hot to handle. He slowly starts to grind his dick against the fabric of your sofa. It’s so messy with the pre-cum spilling from his cock. He’s just as messy though, moaning shamelessly into your pretty, wet cunt with your juices all over his face as he chases his own release. It’s all getting too much as you grab onto Choso’s hair for dear life, practically humping his face, his nose bumping your clit. He can’t get enough of your taste, he think he may have just become an addict as nothing sweet could ever compare to the taste of you. Choso’s whines get more desperate and so do yours. “Fuck! Choso, gonna make me cum.” A pornographic moan leaves him at this statement, showing he was the same. Choso suddenly adds a finger, curling it up to hit the spot that made your toes curl. That was your breaking point as your orgasm came crashing down. However, Choso didn’t stop, lapping up your release as he finally comes to his own panting like a needy dog.

You both take some time to calm down from your highs and soon find yourself sat back on Choso’s lap. “Guess I was right then” you smirk, kissing him as a form of gratitude. He looks so cute like this, so fucked out and you’ve not even touched him properly. “Now it’s my turn to return the favour” you say with a giggle as you slowly make your own way down.

It’s gonna be a long night.

—————————————————————————

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itsbecomeblue · 3 months

Text

glue 001 ellie williams imagine

don't dare forget about palestine

sinopse: you might have a crush on your friend, college!au

cw: swearing, basically fluff, ellie plays soccer, puppy love again because that's my thing, slightly nerdy loser!ellie, reader and ellie are oblivious, not explicit if reader is fem or masc, not exactly proofread.

it was a nice day, the sun gently hitting your face after a week of chilly wind and winter complaints from everyone. you were leaving your last morning class. you walked happily towards the college cafeteria, a thing that no one was ever happy to do. you feel hot on your back, your black jacket heating from the sun but you refuse to take it off and feel the chilly wind.

everything was going as smoothly as it could today. you had worries but the sun was nice and warm on your skin… as you walked you saw her. you saw ellie williams, and like this day, she was golden. a golden soccer player, the best player in your opinion, that's for sure. she walked over to you, that wasn't unusual.

“hey, sup?” she nudged your shoulder to catch your attention, unaware she already had all of it.

she had big green piercing eyes below her eyebrow slit and. you stared for a bit, that wasn't unusual either. she had a mid-sleeve blue shirt that left her tattoo slightly covered. she just waited for you to talk, as she always did, looking down and fidgeting with her fingers. you walked side by side.

“cafeteria?” you point towards the way to the cafeteria, the one you and ellie had been taking for a month now . she hums in agreement.

you met ellie in this same situation, her in front of you, the last ones in the line at the cafeteria. a guy, jesse, walked over to her, jumping the line. she called him out with a few chuckles and he apologized, telling you he just wanted to talk to her. she asked you to sit with her that day.

now, you're in the same line. her in front of you and no jesse to jump the line, but you're gonna sit with her again. the food was not appealing, but the company was great. that was something you and ellie agreed on but kept unspoken.

she's waiting for you to finish putting your food on the tray, so you can walk to the table. ellie looks at you over her shoulder and as soon as you're next to her she's sticking her hand out to your arm, you flinch slightly. ellie was more touchy than you.

“you're quiet.” she fixes your school bag's strap on your shoulder, her tattoo peeking out of her navy sleeve. her cold fingers touch a little of your collar.

“yeah?” you shrugged. “so are you anyway.” she took a breath and shrugged too, sitting down at the right corner table. that wasn't unusual at all.

“do you have any projects coming up?” ellie says as she sits down, she brushes a strand of her hair out of her face. you nod and she hums. “knew it. ya need any help?”

ellie was always the friend to help out in any way, she felt good doing it and she wanted her friends to succeed so if she could help, she would in a heartbeat.

“you wanna help me?” your pupils dilated and ellie noticed.

“no…i mean, yeah i do. you know i do.” she shook her head no, then nodded yes. she's a rambling mess and you just stare and it's making her stumble over her words. “come over after my practice.”

“‘kay.” you try to hold back a smile and you look at your food, the sun is warm and so are you. you thanked god she asked you to come over for a study sesh. you'd take any opportunity to see her and she'd always ask.

ellie was somewhat popular for playing on the soccer team. you had a separate friend group but sometimes people meet randomly and they just click. like you and ellie. you had met jesse when you met ellie, and you eventually met dina and ellie met your roommate but you never really hung out with other people.

you had been friends for a while, lunches in the cafeteria, study sessions, and dorm visits were what your friendship was about and you took every opportunity to see each other. you were getting ready to leave when niyah, your roommate and closest friend spoke out.

“you going to ellie's?” you smile in that certain way and niyah doesn't need an answer anymore.

“she's gonna help me with my project.” you sit down to put on your shoes, checking the time on your phone.

“again? you say she's a nerd and i'm starting to believe you.” and you're nodding.

“she is.” you chuckle. “so smart and a fucking geek!”

“alright, have fun studying i guess…”

“stop, i will. it's fun with her.” niyah mocks you, you throw a hat from the wall hooks at her and leave the room.

you walk a little bit until you get to ellie's dorm. the door is unlocked, as usual when you're coming over and you want to scare her.

“aaaaa…ha!” you yell as you go in, only to find out she isn't inside. you feel stupid and you giggle to yourself.

you sit on her neatly done bed, next to her dinosaur plushie and you text her ‘where are you’ ‘i was finna jumpscare you and no one was here… mad embarrassing’. you sighted, she was never late to see you.

ping! ellie replied ‘omw coach had us doing an extra today” you smile and ping! “i even left without a shower so i wouldn't be so late 💔” you replied “ig it didn't work”. you're waiting for a reply but soon enough you see a sweaty ellie coming into the room, soccer jersey still on.

“oh my god, intruder!” she faked a scare and you furrowed your eyebrows as in ‘you're not funny’. “what? you said you were gonna scare me so…”

“whatever.” you stay on your phone replying to some of your friends’ texts and she pulls it away, wearing a childish smile on her dumb face. some hair stuck sweaty on her forehead and her cheeks were flushed.

“you came here to work, not play on your phone!” she laughs and you cross your arms over you chest. you don't even bother reaching out for your phone.

“you still have to take a shower so…”

“do i?” she shrugs and you look disturbed, furrowing your eyebrows.

“ewwwwww, yes you do smelly ellie.” you laugh and she furrowed her eyebrows in that same ‘you're not funny’ way. the truth is, you find each other hilarious.

“fine, wait here.” she says before grabbing some clothes from her drawers and her towel. “gonna shower real quick, and… and we can start.” you hum and nod.

she goes to the bathroom and you stay on your phone texting niyah and some other friends while she's not back. you get anxious at the image of her in her sweaty jersey for some reason and if you took your eyes off your phone you'd stare. but now it isn't any better, she's coming in with fresh clothes, smelling as good as ever and with water drops on her hair.

“hey… you didn't take out your stuff yet?” she coughs, sitting on the bed too. you shake your head and she hums negatively as to scold you.

you don't take them out and she stays quiet while you stay completely still. when you decide to reach for your bag that you had previously thrown next to the bed, you knee nudges hers. she retracts instantly, making you lift your head to face her. book and laptop in hand.

you stare, as you feared you would before. she knows she's gonna stutter so she decides to stay silent. she blinks softly, eyes still piercing yours.

“it's a questionnaire about a documentary. so maybe this wasn't a good idea.” you hold your book and laptop closer to your lap.

“w-why is it not?” she stuttered and she wanted to leave, but it's her dorm room.

“because… you'd have to have watched it to help me reply so it's dumb.”

“we can watch it, and then we reply.” she reaches for the laptop you had in your lap.

“uhh… it's 3 hours long.” you chuckle and she scoffs in disbelief. “yeah…”

“why did you want help then?” she moves further onto the bed, turning her body to face you, holding your shoulder so you do the same, you comply.

“dunno. i just… i didn't think of what project it was, to be honest. i just wanted… this i think.” you look around, emphasizing the ‘this’ as you do.

“to come over?” you shrug before nodding. “could've just said that. ya know? not your tutor, i'm your friend.”

“i know… but i dunno, i like hearing you talk and you talk and talk when you're helping me and…” you stop yourself and she's beet-red.

“you ask for my help because you… you wanna hear me talk? sorry wait…?” she's convinced she misheard you or just misunderstood what you said. you're scared she might think you're weird or something.

“i guess so, but you're also really smart.” you try to hold back a smile again, and you look down. ellie wants to see you but she doesn't want you to see her blushed cheeks.

“makes sense, sorry if it seemed like that was the only way we could hang. ‘cause that's not true…. we can just hang out y'know?” you listen to her rambling, keeping your head down. she's done talking and you're silent. “can… can you look at me for a sec?”

and you do. what are those? are those your eyes? where's your iris? big ass dilated pupils. ellie chuckles.

“what?” you lean to put your laptop and book back in your bag and as soon as you do ellie holds your chin.

“you like it when i talk?” you blink a few times. “hm?” she insists and you nod. she stays quiet so you feel like you have to say it.

“i do. why?” you breathe so heavily that she feels your body alive against her fingers that she holds against your chin. her stomach twisted, she lost her words.

both were silent, her hand on your chin dropped and you were going to look away but she spoke again.

“‘cause… i like it when you look at me.” she's now fidgeting with her fingers against her lap again, eyes trying to not leave yours, she wouldn't wanna miss any expression of yours.

“sorry.” you try not to look away too. “i know i should look-”

“yeah, keep them on me.” she interrupts with a chuckle and your heart skips a beat. hers is fast. you chuckle back. “wh-what do you wanna do then?”

“just hang, like you said?” you finally move your body again, moving one of your legs onto the bed. she nods, and she notices you kept eye contact.

“yes.” she vocalized. “course.” a strand of wet hair is stuck on her forehead and you itch to move it around.

“why did the coach have you guys doing extra today?” you remember to ask.

“it was just me and dina, we were late.” she laughs and another strand of hair falls forward as she lowers her head. your hand trails off but you hesitate. “what?” she noticed you didn't laugh and your hand's movement.

“you have hair here.” she laughs and you sigh. “here…” you brush the strands away from her forehead, she's choked up.

your eyes go down to hers and as soon as they pierce yours you're choked up too. she breathed out a “thanks.” and she accidentally touched your nose with hers because of the proximity.

“that was a kunik.” you smile and she pulls away softly.

“what do you mean?” she curled her lips up in a sweet smile.

“your nose on mine.”

“nose kiss is cute.” she adds.

“mhm, i think so too.” you agree, palming your jeans. your hands were clammy and you wanted to take off your jacket and ellie seemed to read your mind.

“you're hot?” you furrow your eyebrows at first until you nod and take off your jacket. “glad you know.” now she's holding back a smile when you do too.

“uhm… today's warm.”

“are you really talking about the weather right now?” she laughs at your conversation attempt and you slap her arm.

“it's not like that… it's actually nice and warm today.” you giggle. “i was thinking about it.”

“right… right… it's true, it is warm.” she surrenders to your true statement. “it's nicer to practice like this, makes you feel more energetic.”

“plus made you sweat so hard.” you laugh, remembering the state she was in.

“naaah, it's always like that, but coming back here speeding wasn't as refreshing as the walks when it's colder” she emphasizes speeding and glares harder at you with a grin.

“hey! i didn't ask you to speed here!” you smile, she mirrors that. your smiles fade away with the silence that settles again. you were about to speak again when ellie beat you to it.

“i don't like being late.” she moves around to lie down next to your sat figure.

“you were just laughing about being late.” you start laughing, looking at her almost over your shoulder.

“about being late for practice, not about being late to see you.” she chuckles and you grin. she rolls her eyes, knowing what to expect from you.

“oooh because i'm just sooo more important.” you turn to her, leaning on the bed with your hands, closer to her face now.

“yeah right… you're just scarier than the coach.” she laughs but she stops drastically, serious expression. “it's your face. scary as shit i swear to god.”

“ooooh really?” you chant coming even closer.

“yeah keep that face away…” she acts frightened, one hand on top of her head and the other between your faces to keep you away. you lean even closer and you're both giggling “help!” even closer, giggles and chuckles alive.

“you're done for!” you come closer, face hitting her hand, that just holds your cheek.

you're still laughing and she's grabbing your face with both hands, pretending to scream in fear as you laugh into her face. you're almost on top of her and as soon as you touch, her eyes soften and you stiffen. the laughter is gone and long forgotten.

“nose kiss again?” she blurted out incoherently and you shifted, her hand slid to your neck, you felt hot again but now you didn't have a jacket to strip out of.

“what?” you crawl closer to settle where you were. your heart raced just like ellie's, even if you didn't know hers did. “ellie…” you start, not moving an inch away or closer, her head already lifted off the bed. her hand on your neck pulls you closer until your noses touch again.

“there, nose kissed.” she smiles. you let go of the breath you didn't realize you were holding. she moves her nose against yours. breathing against each other's faces.

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